


'tis the damn season

by lunchables, poisonluthor



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, maybe not quite exes but ex-almosts, the self-indulgent xmas au that like five people have been waiting for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchables/pseuds/lunchables, https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonluthor/pseuds/poisonluthor
Summary: “It was nice of you to invite me to dinner,” Andrea said flatly, and she struggled to sound like she meant it. “But clearly it’s been a long time. So let’s drop the act. We don’t need to keep pretending like we’re excited to see each other, and that this reunion was long overdue, because clearly— clearly some things should just stay in the past. Right?”alternatively, the christmas exes au
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 29
Kudos: 111





	1. there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

**Author's Note:**

> this is a collab me and wendy have been meaning to do all year, and finally it's here! 
> 
> originally this was going to be a one-shot but we got carried away, so here is part one, and the second and final part will posted within a couple days. happy holidays :)

Andrea always knew she’d see her again, maybe at some low-scale event or a charity auction, something that was more up _her_ alley. But the last place she expected to cross paths was a prestigious Women in Tech conference.

The auditorium around her was rowdy with investors and analysts passing up and down the aisles in a hurry as they scrambled for their seats. For most of them it was their third conference of the day. Some were prepared with notepads in hand while others opted for their laptops, all in hopes of taking quick notes that might prove useful to their professional careers.

Andrea’s approach was a tad different. 

She had been sitting in her seat for the last five minutes, her right leg crossed over the other, shoulders slouched low against the cold cushions behind her. She had just finished giving her own speech, happily ending it ten minutes earlier than its scheduled finish and escaping the heavy spotlight’s heat. Unlike all the ordinary, dull business leaders at these events, Andrea couldn’t stand being up on the podium and watching the eager yet disinterested faces of the commerce world. None of them had the drive that she had, and she knew they would never be successful because no one was willing to be as ruthless and unconventional as she was in her youth. 

It’s the reputation that gave her everything, but it’s the reputation that also brought her to National City today. 

When she was first invited to give a speech at the conference, Andrea swiftly declined the offer, but _of course_ her board of directors would hear none of it. They were adamant about Obsidian demonstrating family-friendly values, but Andrea’s lack of public charity work brushed those goals aside. Accepting this event was the first step in demonstrating the company’s image, and Andrea had no choice but to oblige. 

The only saving grace of this trip was the occasion to catch up with Lena. It had been several months since Andrea last saw her friend, so she was longing to reconnect and learn about Lena’s recent successes. They had planned to meet before Lena’s presentation, but as the clock neared her 4 o’clock slot, Andrea was starting to feel as if their plans had fallen through.

Rolling her eyes, Andrea pulled her phone out from a pocket on the inner breast of her blazer. _I’m in the back. Where are you?_ she typed out, sending it a second later. She could hardly believe that Lena, Miss “15 minutes isn’t early, it’s on time”, Luthor was about to be late for her own conference. The quips were practically writing themselves in her mind, and Andrea was sure she’d never let her friend live it down. That is, if Lena ever decided to bless the audience with her presence.

“Sorry, are you Andrea Ro—”

“Wrong tycoon,” Andrea said, turning her attention to her right, immediately shooting down the question before the woman even had a chance of finishing it. 

“But yo—”

“No,” Andrea repeated, lifting her chin and boldly staring down the stranger. 

Her Q&A period was long over and there was no way she would be soliciting business questions on her off-time. She held up her end of this silly Obsidian deal and there was no more need for pleasantries if she wasn’t getting her arm twisted.

“Is that all?” Andrea asked, a plastic smile now curling at the corner of her lips, knowing she won this battle. 

The daring look made the woman’s knees shake, which she clearly tried to mask by shifting antsily from foot to foot. She opened and closed her mouth uselessly, suddenly floundering like a fool as she tried to find her words. 

It was pathetic to watch. Andrea better have been getting one hell of a bonus that year, she thought.

“Alright,” Andrea sighed, feeling uncharacteristically sorry for the stranger. She felt her phone vibrate on her lap, but she kept it face down as she zeroed in on the woman beside her. Let this be her second good act of the day. “What is it?”

The woman’s eyes widened once she realized that she was getting a chance — probably the only one she’d get today. She didn’t waste any time as she swung her leather satchel around and pulled an orange envelope out of it, placing it gently on the seat next to Andrea.

“Thank you for your time,” she quickly mumbled before bolting away. 

“Typical.” Andrea plucked up the edge of the envelope with her newly manicured fingers, knowing with near certainty that it was probably the woman’s resumé. She wasn’t going to look at it now, and she wasn’t even sure if she would bother looking at it later, but for the moment, she crammed it into her purse, out of sight and definitely out of mind. 

The only pressing thought on Andrea’s mind was Lena’s current whereabouts. Turning her attention back to her phone, Andrea finally had the chance to read her new message.

_Something came up and I can’t make it. Raincheck?_

Andrea let out a sour scoff. She couldn’t believe she wasted the last ten minutes sitting in this overcrowded auditorium only to get stood up at the last minute. Andrea hasn’t even _been_ stood up since at least 2012. Lena always tried to set herself apart from the rest of her family but leaving Andrea high and dry was as cruel and as quintessential as the Luthors got.

 _You owe me,_ Andrea texted back before abruptly standing from her seat. 

The only upside of attending a hotel conference was that she could seek reprieve by hiding in her booked room for a few hours. It was how Andrea spent most of her day before she left for her own presentation. Seeing as she still had time to kill before her flight, Andrea resorted on retreating, seeking that solace in her room once more. She was about to pick up her purse from the next seat beside her (over her dead body would she set her Prada handbag on a filthy public floor) when she felt her phone buzz again. 

_Owed. I just made it up to you,_ read the message. 

Andrea scrunched up her face at whatever the hell that meant.

Her answer came a second later as the doors on the side of the auditorium burst open, and a rushed voice echoed around the vast room, “Sorry! I’m here! I’m here!”

The voice was feather-like and delicate. As familiar as it was foreign. It sounded like how driving on a snowy day felt, barely being able to see the road in front of you as the cold temperature cut through the air and water vapor condensed, leaving only a beaming light clearing the road ahead, bringing you back to that once familiar place you left years ago. 

But even as Andrea was drawn towards the voice, she also felt herself feeling stuck in her tracks, tires kicking up sludge, car stalling in the snow, begging her not to move on. Her knees folded of their own accord and she fell back into her seat, feeling herself succumb to the allure of one Samantha Arias.

Yes, Andrea figured this day would come eventually. She just wasn’t ready for it to be today.

“I just have to plug in the laptop and then I’m ready to go,” Sam said to one of the hosts at the front of the auditorium, muffled through what the stage mic was able to pick up. 

Andrea watched as the brunette moved around the stage, quickly getting her affairs in order as soon as she could. She unstrapped the briefcase she held and pulled out a laptop, bringing the machine atop the podium before searching for the connecting wires to hook it up to the projector. 

Sam was so focused and determined, exactly as Andrea remembered her. But more than that, she looked almost sharper in her actions. There was a certain confident aura in the way she carried herself — one she didn’t have back in grad school all those years ago. Where she once had moved with lanky uncertainty and timid indecision, she was now cool and secure in every instruction she gave the hosts around her. She was finely sculpted in her role, looking as if she finally belonged.

At the least, she was _definitely_ sharper in her looks. The grey-fitted tweed jacket did wonders to Sam’s figure, or even perhaps, Sam’s figure did wonders for the jacket. The matching vest underneath solidified the look, complementing her vibrant white shirt and the ruby red tie that was firmly set around her neck. The knot was perfect and snug against her throat, and Andrea found herself wondering if Sam did it herself or if she had someone to tie it for her.

Truth be told, Andrea found her mind wandering frequently. She didn’t know how she was supposed to react to this. Sam was here, right now, in the same room as her, preparing to give the speech that presumably Lena was supposed to give. It was unexpected, but it perhaps wasn’t… the worst change of plans. 

“Okay, hi everyone!” Sam announced once her mic was properly hooked up to the speakers, her smile beaming. “As you can tell, I’m not Lena Luthor. But I am the CFO at L-Corp and I’m so happy to be here in her place today. We’re starting a few minutes late, so I’m going to cram the next two slides, but we _will_ finish on time!”

The projected screen at the front of the auditorium lit up with her words, displaying the table of contents for Sam’s presentation. This was usually the part in conferences where Andrea would begin tuning out, though she found herself taking a different approach this time as she scooted up in her seat, giving all her attention to the girl upfront. 

She only meant to stay for a few minutes, but time passed by faster than she anticipated, and a full hour later, Sam was on the cusp of concluding her presentation. 

When the applause broke out, Andrea’s wits finally caught up with her and she took the opportunity to slip out the backdoor. She appreciated seeing Sam, but that didn’t mean she wanted to actually run into her, to reminisce about the shittily awkward old days. There was a lot of history there, and with Andrea’s flight leaving in a few hours, there was not nearly enough time nor energy for them to get into it. 

It was best this way — seeing an old friend living a successful life and staying the hell out of it. 

As she approached the elevator at the end of the hallway, Andrea’s phone vibrated with another incoming text.

_So?_

Andrea rolled her eyes, knowing Lena wouldn’t leave her alone unless she gave an answer.

 _Late start, oversaturated slides, subpar by even your own standards,_ Andrea texted back as she walked inside the elevator, taking it up to the 38th floor so she could pack her bags, leave the hotel and distance herself from Sam as fast as humanly possible.

“What do you mean the flights are cancelled?” Andrea asked with poorly veiled frustration, her knuckles white around the handle of her luggage.

“I’m sorry Miss Rojas, but there is a snowstorm starting tonight and visibility will be very low. Our pilots will not be able to fly in these weather conditions,” the service representative replied. 

“So, what do you want me to do? Waste another day in this city?”

“We can provide you with a hotel voucher, meal accommodations,” the agent continued, keeping a pleasant tone as Andrea’s ascended higher into anger

“I don’t need a fucking voucher,” Andrea snapped, waving her hands exasperatedly. “I could buy this whole damn airport if I wanted to.”

Instead of retaliating in anger, the agent blinked away, keeping her cool demeanor with an immaculately pressed smile. “Then perhaps you might consider a private jet, because that is likely your only option if you really wish to be back in Argentina by tomorrow.”

Andrea washed her hands over her face, trying to wipe away some of her frustration. She didn’t want to be stuck in National City, but she didn’t want to be _that_ person in the airport, either. 

“You know what, I’m sorry. I was out of line.” Andrea took a cooling breath as she leaned over the counter, flipping her attitude like a switch. “Do you know when the flights will resume?”

The service representative hardly reacted beyond a twist of her lips before continuing, “The forecast seems fine for tomorrow so the delay should only be for one night.” 

“One night,” Andrea muttered, turning from the help desk without thanks. “Okay, I can live with that. What’s one more night in this city, right?”

The drive back to the hotel was almost as tiresome as Andrea’s entire day. The roads were already icing over, prolonging her endless day even more as the cabbie drove slower than usual to avoid the black ice.

Andrea opened her mouth only once on the drive after rattling off the hotel address and it was only to beg the driver to change the station from Christmas music to _literally anything else_. The cabbie seemed to pick up on her sour attitude from that point onwards, so he didn’t even try to start a civil conversation. Instead, he let her sulk in the backseat, her head leaning against the window, watching the snow flurries speed past them as the wind continued to pick up faster than they were actually driving.

By the time they reached the hotel, all Andrea wanted to do was step inside, take the elevator up to her room, run a hot bath, and finally call it a night. Maybe order room service for a fine pinot for dinner to speed up this dreadful evening.

It should’ve been that easy too, given that she had already called to rebook her room and clear any administrative concerns. But of course, after presenting at a conference she didn’t want to attend in the first place and getting all return flights cancelled, nothing about today would be straight-forward. 

She managed to get her luggage out of the cab in one piece, but when she tried pushing her way through the revolving doors, one of her bags trailed behind, wedging itself between the edge of the door and the cylinder wall beside it. 

“Fuck me,” Andrea hissed to herself. She dropped her other bags and turned around, facing the door so she could use both arms to shift her bag out of its jammed position. When it didn’t budge, she resorted to kicking the luggage, hoping it would lodge free. All her efforts were unsuccessful, and she was about to give up completely when she heard someone behind her offering their assistance. 

“Hey! Do you need some help?” 

The sheer excitement in the voice halted Andrea’s movements. She felt a shiver run through her body, either from that voice alone or from the bitter cold breeze whipping through the partly open door in front of her. For her own sanity, Andrea would blame it on the weather outside seeping its way to her, but deep down she knew the truth. If she hadn’t heard that voice speak for a consecutive hour just that afternoon, she might’ve been able to deny knowing the owner of that sweet articulation.

“It’s fine!” Andrea cleared her throat, trying to deepen her voice more than usual in hopes of fooling Sam. “I’ve got it.” 

It’s not that she was opposed to receiving help, but when it was being offered by the one person she had actively avoided just hours ago, it was a different story. She was only here for one more night, and facing Sam wasn’t on the docket for it.

But of course, Sam was never one to back down from helping a stubborn stranger. 

“Let me just—” Sam inched closer to push the revolving door in the opposite way that Andrea was pulling the bag.

Her method worked wonders as Andrea easily freed the luggage; however, the force of her pull inadvertently threw her backwards at the same time, landing her on the lobby floor.

Andrea should’ve been embarrassed about the fall. Or maybe she at least should’ve cared about the black smudge that was now streaked on the side of her expensive white coat, fresh from the tumble, probably from a stain on the carpet that hadn’t been vacuumed in hours. But she didn’t get the time to think any of these thoughts because as soon as she looked up, Sam was there, towering over her, giving her a completely new reason to hate her entire existence. 

“Oops!” Sam laughed, holding out her hand. “Sorry about that.”

There would only be a split second until the realization dawned on her too, but in that lovely, tantalizing second, Andrea had the advantage of getting a better look at Sam, a clearer one than when she first saw her from the back of the auditorium. At this distance, Andrea could now see just how much the brunette matured after all those years spent apart. There were the faintest tugs of laugh lines around the corners of her mouth, hardly defined in her still-young age, but bringing such a jovial face even more alive, accentuating pink lips and an ethereal glow.

That luminant smile, just before she realized who Andrea was, shattered everything.

One second wasn’t long, but it was enough time for Andrea to admit that Sam looked _fine as fuck._ Even when Sam pulled away, blinking quickly and undoubtedly recognizing the girl on the floor, she still looked far more attractive than Andrea ever remembered, all tall and slender with a devastatingly sharp posture.

“Andrea?” Sam’s tone panged higher than expected. Andrea selectively took that as a win, because clearly, she wasn’t the only one incredibly flustered by this entire situation. “What— What are you doing here?”

“I was, uh,” Andrea started before realizing it wasn’t best to have a conversation from the lower ground. She stood from the floor, wiping her hands against her Burberry coat, dirtying it even more since she’d probably have it thrown out at this point anyway. 

She tried to sound more dignified than she felt. “I had a conference here.”

“Oh wow, really? I did too!”

“Yeah?” Andrea forced a poor smile. 

“Yeah, it was actually last minute. I was covering for Lena Luthor in auditorium B,” Sam explained before a curious look donned her face. “Wait, was yours part of the women in tech conference too?”

“That’s the one.”

“What a coincidence,” Sam said with a laugh and a certain sparkle in her eyes that Andrea remembered all too well. 

Even after four years, Sam still looked at Andrea with an unbridled sense of wonder and intrigue. It terrified Andrea back then, and it was even worse now for it felt more misplaced than ever. Andrea diverted her attention elsewhere, landing instead on the phone-obsessed teenager that was hovering behind Sam. 

“Hey Rubes!” Sam called out to the girl. “You remember Andrea?”

“Sure.”

“ _Ruby_ ,” Sam warned, turning around and dropping a hand to her hip. 

The discipline felt unjustified to Andrea, who quite frankly, couldn’t care any less if Ruby acknowledged her, but she supposed the tyranny was just a parent thing. 

Not to mention when they first met, Andrea hadn’t made the best efforts into getting to know the girl either. To be fair, Andrea was only 22 at the time and she had no idea how to even treat a child considering she still was one herself. Not that she’s any better at understanding kids now, but. The point is, she gets it, and she’s about as indifferent to Ruby’s presence as Ruby likely is to hers.

Even so, Sam wouldn’t let that disrespect slide. She cleared her throat forcefully.

A loud sigh sounded from Ruby before she put down her phone and looked directly in Andrea’s direction. “Hi,” she said, making a point to hold eye contact for the full duration of the word before gluing her eyes back to her phone. 

It must have been enough for Sam. She shook her head as she turned away from Ruby, looking at Andrea once more. 

“Well, _I_ think it’s great to see you,” she said. She offered up a sympathetic smile, one that only faltered when she bit her lip mindlessly, trying to do some mental math. “What’s it been? Four years?”

“Something like that.” Andrea let out a soft laugh. She had already figured out the math that morning when she was gaping wordlessly at Sam for the better half of an hour. Four years and give or take 5 or 6 months, depending when the last university party took place.

Truthfully, Andrea couldn’t even believe it had been that long. After she got her master’s degree, she assumed the CEO position waiting for her at Obsidian and carried on with her life. She didn’t think about Sam, not for a single second after graduation, nor after that one crestfallen look and the faint, _“oh,”_ when they (obviously, _inevitably_ ) went their separate ways. But now, after seeing her for the second time that day, Andrea wondered for the first time if Sam ever gave a second thought about her. 

There was a time when Andrea knew the answer to that question, where she would intentionally whisper in Sam’s ears, knowing the effect it would have on her. For Andrea, it was all fun and games, seeing just how much she could flirt without having to commit to anything more. It was almost unspoken that their friendship could never amount to anything real, and that the occasional nights behind a locked door at a house party were the closest they would ever manage for anything. But even with that common understanding, it didn’t stop Andrea from cruelly pushing those boundaries and indulging Sam in her little crush. 

Because that’s all it was — a crush.

A stiff silence followed, and just as Andrea glanced away, ready to put an end to this conversation and make her escape, Sam’s eyes caught onto the luggage at Andrea’s feet, the stupid bag that started everything.

“Wait, are you only just checking in now?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I wasn’t planning on staying in the city.” Not any longer than she had to, Andrea thought bitterly. “Flight got cancelled.”

A curious twinkle blinked in Sam’s eye, and she gave a slow smile. “So, you don’t have any plans?”

It was that same old sweet lilt to her words that Andrea still remembered so well, though where it once was fumbly and cute, now it was captivating and full of charm. It gave Andrea both a thrill and a straight shot to panic. “Well, not really, no, but I was going to—”

“You should join Ruby and me for dinner! We were just on our way to the restaurant right now.”

“ _Mom._ ”

“I don’t—” Andrea fronted an uncertain expression as she mentally scrambled for an excuse (Ruby had the right idea because good _god_ , Andrea would rather do just about anything else), but she ultimately came up with nothing on time. “I’m not sure…”

“Oh, it’ll be just like old times studying ‘till four in the morning. Except just, hotel apps until eleven, because this one’s got a curfew,” she said while tapping her hand against Ruby’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s been ages. I can’t let you go without at least catching up.”

 _I can’t let you go._ Funny sentiment, now. 

“I should really take these up to my room,” Andrea tried, gesturing to her bags, but it was feeble. Sam always did have a cunningly persuasive way about her.

“Oh please,” Sam laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually become modest after all this time.” With a cool gesture and a smile, Sam politely called over a bellhop from the elevators. “Excuse me, sir? Would you mind having these taken up for Miss Rojas? She’s staying in…”

Sam trailed off and looked to Andrea. Something about announcing her room number in front of her felt like a dangerous game but given that she’d take the first flight out in the morning, the risk seemed low.

“3807,” Andrea said begrudgingly. Of course, staff help was nowhere to be found when Andrea needed them, when this entire debacle could have been avoided, but Sam called one over now with such confident ease. Sourly, she added: “Penthouse suite was taken, and the bastards wouldn’t budge.”

“Yeah, that sounds more like the Andrea I remember.” Sam smirked. “But that’s my bad with the suite. First come, first serve?”

“That was you?” Andrea raised her eyebrows, because— alright, it was one thing for Sam to be staying in the only five-star hotel National City harbors, which was a stretch all on its own to justify, but to afford Andrea’s go-to penthouse suite? L-Corp was a big name in the up-and-coming businesses of the year, but it was still finding its footing after Lex’s meltdown last year. As wealthy as the Luthor name was, Andrea knew for a fact that even being CFO of such a newly invented company wasn’t well-paying enough for this.

And to be secure enough for the hotel to refuse to budge when _Andrea fucking Rojas_ tried to insist they make it work? The only person in this city powerful enough for that was Cat Grant. Or maybe Lena, but Andrea would never say that to her face.

Andrea didn’t get a chance to voice any of her skepticisms aloud, because Ruby tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Can we go now? I’m starving.”

“Yes, yes, okay.” Playfully slinging an arm around her daughter’s neck, much to the girl’s irritation, Sam said to Andrea, “You good to go?”

“I never actually agreed, you know.” 

Sam cocked a slanted smile, her teeth gleaming under the gold lights. “No, but you were going to.”

 _Cocky_ was never a color Andrea pegged as suitable for Sam, much less attainable. Every glimpse of this new attitude was as startling as the last, and Andrea couldn’t stop noticing how it manifested itself in every twist and texture of her.

It was never a color that Andrea liked on anyone, period.

Andrea swallowed. “I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your kid. So, lead the way then.”

There was only so much ground to cover, and each course of their meal made that glaringly obvious.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Sam said over their appetizer salads.

Sam’s aversion only made Andrea want to press harder. “No?”

“Sore topic, don’t you think?” Sam asked with a lighthearted smile that Andrea couldn’t see through.

She hadn’t expected Sam to address their history so bluntly, least of all in front of her daughter. Andrea glanced back and forth between them now, unsure how to answer. Sure, maybe Sam had proven Andrea wrong by how she stood up on that stage at the conference today, but Andrea was still caught off guard by how Sam pointed it out so languidly, so indifferently. She asked it less as a challenge and more as if she genuinely couldn’t guess Andrea’s response. Up until she opened her mouth, Andrea wasn’t sure she knew the answer herself. 

“Well,” Andrea settled with. “Guess I wouldn’t want to bore Ruby.”

“I’m already bored,” the girl chimed in.

“Quit being rude.” Sam swatted her napkin at Ruby’s lap. “Or I’m not taking you skating next week.”

Ruby just rolled her eyes at the obviously fake threat, but Andrea couldn’t help but notice the way Sam talked to Ruby, how they interacted. Sure, they had the bickering mother-daughter dynamic down, but there was something more familiar than a bratty teenager and a playfully scolding mom. Andrea couldn’t quite put a word to it.

It was over their entrées that Sam cleared her throat after a long pull of her wine. She jutted her chin, looking down at Andrea’s hand. “So, you’re married?”

Andrea almost choked on her own glass, and she could have sworn she heard a chuckle come from Ruby’s direction, but the girl had been sighing and grunting all night, so it was hard to tell.

“No,” she said resolutely. “I’m not. It’s— It belonged to my abuela.” Andrea twisted the thin silver band, but she pointedly avoided looking at it. “She passed a couple years ago.”

Andrea wasn’t going to mention that people mistaking her for being married had its perks, that the band on her finger kept unwanted suitors away and short flings under wraps — when strangers assumed she was having an affair, there was never any expectations for a morning after or a call back.

“Oh. Shit,” Sam sighed under her breath, her wine glass pausing to her mouth. There was none of that sickening pity that made Andrea feel filthy with resentment, but her eyes had widened slightly, and her mouth was pulled into a small frown. “I remember how close you two were.”

Andrea couldn’t find it in her to be embarrassed about that. A drunk night four years ago, one of the rare times that tequila loosened her tongue with sincerity rather than the button on her jeans. She remembered idly rambling about her family to Sam in a quiet, three-a.m. moment, about how she looked up to her grandparents, how they had been married for over fifty years but still looked at each other as if it were that first day, about how they were the only exemplary displays of love Andrea had ever understood, had ever longed for. It was uncharacteristic for them, and it never happened again nor did either of them ever mention it, and as hazy as the details were, Andrea still remembered that warm feeling in her stomach so well.

She cleared her throat. “It’s fine. Like I said, it’s been a couple years.”

“Right.”

Chin propped in one hand, Ruby twirled her pasta boredly as she glanced at Andrea. “Couple years doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”

When Andrea and Sam both turned to the girl, she looked startled at the attention as if she hadn’t meant to have spoken at all. Quickly, Ruby added, “I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody, but an empty space is still an empty space.”

Andrea had no idea what she was supposed to say to that, but she did understand the sentiment. An empty space was still empty even if it wasn’t a loss, she thought, glancing across the table.

Sam didn’t seem like she knew what to say either, her eyes drifting shut with a sigh.

There wasn’t much else to talk about. Andrea could turn the question back around and ask Sam if she was seeing anyone, but that would entail having to pretend she actually cared, which was too exhausting to even think about. The last thing she wanted was Sam gushing about some meet-cute story, because talk about _boring_.

Andrea could ask about how Sam originally knew Lena, but work was off the table. She could ask about Ruby, but the girl looked like the type who could spend god-only-knows how long talking about herself. 

She didn’t know what to say, all questions drying up on her tongue. Andrea didn’t want to talk about herself either, which led to her spending the rest of dinner pretending to be fascinated by the interior design of the hotel’s restaurant and the various waitstaff passing by as she hurriedly finished her wine. The sooner both their glasses emptied, the sooner they could stop acting as if there was anything substantial here anymore.

Andrea wasn’t disappointed when Sam had little else to stay either, because the stilted quiet as their meal came to an end was easier than awkward small-talk, but Andrea still found herself waiting for Sam to say something. Anything. 

It seemed she waited for nothing.

“So.” Andrea cleared her throat once Ruby _finally_ slurped up her last noodle. “Should I call for the bill?”

Sam waved her off. “No, it’s already taken care of. They have my room number from the reservation.”

Jesus, her glass of wine cost over a hundred dollars alone. Andrea was dying to know what kind of holiday bonus L-Corp was scrounging up for this carefree level of extravagant spending, coming from the woman who used to insist only on store-brand grocery products and coupon books in college.

When Sam stood up with a sweet, “You ready to go?” to her daughter, Andrea found the moment she’d been waiting for to be more bittersweet than she was expecting.

But she followed to her feet and forced a polite smile as she draped her coat over her arm. She caught Ruby eyeing the garment with a frown, and as Andrea remembered the dark stains, she huffed under her breath. 

“So this was nice,” Sam said as they approached the exit, Ruby trailing ahead of them into the lobby on her phone, out of earshot. “I’m glad we—”

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Andrea interrupted, her posture stiff. 

Sam’s smile wavered, half-amused and half-uncertain. “Do… what?”

“It was nice of you to invite me to dinner,” Andrea said flatly, and she struggled to sound like she meant it. “But clearly it’s been a long time. So let’s drop the act. We don’t need to keep pretending like we’re excited to see each other, and that this reunion was long overdue, because clearly— clearly some things should just stay in the past. Right?”

The moment before Sam’s smile completely fell from her face, before her mouth set into a firm line and she schooled her features, Andrea saw it. The downcast eyes, the blindsided disappointment. For just a moment, it was the same look as four years ago. 

Sam was quicker in wiping away that look away now. 

“Duly noted,” Sam said, her tone even. She simply nodded like they were closing a business deal. “Take care of yourself, then.”

Andrea expected something else, but exactly as she asked for, Sam turned gracefully on her heel and went to join her daughter waiting by the elevators.

But before she got too far, she stopped, turned back, and with a dry laugh, added: “You know, it really was nice to see you. Just emphasis on the _was_ , I guess.”

By the time she finally stepped onto the elevator, and Sam and Ruby disappeared from sight, Andrea found herself still standing at the restaurant entrance. 

It was funny, how leaving always had a way of feeling like being left behind. 

God, Andrea hated this city.

* * *

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Ma’am, there’s a blizzard.”

“You have to be _kidding._ ”

“Flights will resume normally sometime soon,” the airline representative firmly interrupted. This time it was a manager, the front-desk attendant hovering behind. “As of right now, there are no flights leaving National City. There’s barely enough visibility for cars on the road.”

“When? When will they resume? Tonight? Tomorrow?”

“It’s difficult to say. Weather forecasts have been tentative, right now.”

“You have to be _fucking_ —”

Apparently, rightfully calling out the airline’s incompetence and shedding light on their entirely disorganized corporation wasn’t going to get flights going out any sooner. It did lead to a faintly-veiled threat to have security escort her out, but little else. The only reason Andrea left was because she was sick of looking at their faces anyway.

Spending the night in the hotel had also gotten depressing, and Andrea had a feeling that if she went back now it would just mean emptying out the minibar by four out of boredom, and that prospect alone was gloomy in and of itself. She considered going to see Lena before remembering an Instagram post of her and Kara draped on the beach somewhere warmer than here, and that post alone made the city become even more dreary. 

She didn’t know how she ended up here, much less _why_ , but it seemed like the only other place in the city she could visit to kill time that wasn’t either a bar or in the freezing outdoors was the mall.

But coming here a week before Christmas proved to be a grave mistake. The overcrowded floors and stores paired with the sickening abundance of sweetened cinnamon fragrance clouded what little breathing room was left. Andrea didn’t even like shopping.

The families with sticky-fingered, screaming children were as unappealing as the happy couples roaming around, and all the festive cheer was nauseating. Leaving as soon as she came felt like admitting defeat, though, and so when she ended up in one of those city-pride boutiques with cheap knick-knacks, a deathtrap for tourists, it was only because she decided she would go to _one_ store before bolting. Her father always had a soft spot for this corny type of junk, especially the snow globes.

And so, it was with a round, plastic globe rolling around in her leather-gloved hands, that she saw her.

Through the gap on the top shelf that Andrea had just opened up, on the other side in the next aisle, was _her_ , of course.

Her face was twisted into a pensive look and she was biting her lip, eyes fixed on something on the shelf in front of her. For just a moment, Sam wasn’t looking at her, and Andrea could picture that same face scrutinizing term papers and spreadsheets across a dingy library table.

Their best times have always been just that, moments. A blink in time, a fleeting look, the breath before a conversation. Always just a moment, the only thing too short to be ruined. 

“Andrea?”

Sam was looking at her. Shit, Sam was looking at her, while she was looking at Sam, and—

Glass shattering snapped her from her panic, and Andrea jolted at the mess at her feet and the glittering water now soaking the soles of her rock-studded Valentinos.

This city was utter bullshit.

The surprise on Sam’s face quickly turned to concern, and she hurried around the aisle to Andrea’s side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she gushed, coming onto the scene in shock and clearly with no idea how to help. 

It was fine; Andrea already felt hopeless.

“Uh.” A teenage store clerk sidled up beside them, scratching the back of his head. “You’re gonna… have to pay for that up front.”

She refused to feel as mortified as the situation warranted, and instead she just briskly shook off the excess liquid from her shoes and stalked past the boy to the register. It should have been worse that she could feel Sam trailing along with her quietly, that the other woman was sticking around as if they’d come in together and that she had actually _witnessed_ this entire debacle, but Andrea couldn’t help the relief that flooded through her, knowing that Sam didn’t resent her for the way they left it the night before.

Sam always did have a way about leniency, about making things easier for Andrea’s sake.

“Those should really be on safety wires,” Andrea said snidely to the clerk after she’d paid for the stupid globe. “So many breakables on thin shelves, it’s just irresponsible.”

“I think they do that on purpose,” Sam whispered as they left the store, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. “Their best sales come from clumsy tourists.”

“Oh, I know you’re not implying I’m a tourist right now.”

“No, of course not. You’re just visiting the city from out of town, in a souvenir shop over the holidays. Nothing touristy about that.”

Andrea stopped in her tracks, just outside the store. “You’re on thin ice, Arias.”

Sam just laughed again, also stalling to a stop. “Good to know you’re still just as dramatic as ever.”

“I’m not dramatic, I just have standards for myself.”

Sam crossed her arms loosely, her smirk knowing. “Right, right. Of course.”

There was a— a tug, or something.

Standing outside the store, the bustling mall alive around them, it felt like something was actively pulling them apart. She didn’t know which way Sam was headed, but there was an unnameable urge to take off in the opposite direction.

Even more impossible to discern, Andrea resisted that urge, and she hovered in the same spot. Sam seemed to be waiting for her to do something, waiting for her to leave like her gut was pushing her to. She raised her eyebrows at Andrea, slow and almost gentle, not as a challenge but more as an indication of her patience.

Andrea found herself wanting to stay, but not knowing what for.

She cleared her throat. “Where’s Ruby?”

“She’s with her friends.” Sam waved a hand vaguely. “Somewhere around. She said I was suffocating her, and I have to buy some presents for her anyway. The teenage angst works in my favor.”

“Isn’t she like ten?”

“Twelve, but close enough.”

Andrea knew how old she was. She didn’t know why she was pretending like she didn’t.

Sam tilted her head and gave her a curious smile. “I thought you were supposed to fly out this morning?”

“Flight got cancelled.”

“Again?”

Andrea couldn’t help but mirror the smile. “Again.”

“Mm, shitty.”

“Very.” But maybe not the worst, Andrea thought, glancing over Sam’s high-waisted jeans and dark, wool cardigan, taking in her soft ease. Looking at her face, Andrea refrained from breaking eye contact again as she started, “Look, um.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam laughed, interrupting. “I’m not going to rope you into any more reminiscing down memory lane. You made it clear enough.”

Andrea’s chest clenched. “Made what clear, exactly?”

Sam shrugged, though she was smiling as she searched for the right words. “Just like… there’s nothing you consider worth remembering. I don’t mean that accusingly, it’s fine. I’m just glad I know.”

It wasn’t an olive branch so much as an easy way out. Easier than four years ago, easier than last night.

“Do you remember that day on the campus square,” Andrea said slowly, “the night before my inter-org networking paper was due? There was a girl you knew playing the piano, and you dragged me there to listen with you because you said I needed to relax.”

Sam pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “Yeah. You called me an annoying bitch for that.”

“I still went with you.” 

Sam’s smile faltered, and even Andrea didn’t know what she was trying to say. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just—” Andrea forced an even exhale. “Maybe not all of it.”

“Maybe not all... what?”

“Maybe it wasn’t all so bad.”

The look that Sam studied her with wasn’t as invasive as Andrea expected, didn’t make her feel so stupidly naked. Which it shouldn’t anyway, obviously. She wasn’t revealing anything here, it wasn’t a grand gesture to admit that maybe the single year of their friendship wasn’t all just a bitter experience Andrea wanted to forget.

Sam looked at her almost like she thought Andrea was kidding. Either way, she softened, and she nodded over her shoulder. “Like I said, I have to do some more Christmas shopping with Ruby. Do you want to join me?”

If Andrea’s sigh sounded like relief, no one mentioned it.

“Is this what people do?” Andrea asked with a curl to her mouth, barely hiding her disdain behind the lip of her latté.

“People?” Sam echoed amusedly, not looking away from the display of a jewelry kiosk while Andrea leaned against the case with her arms crossed, observing the masses.

“Yes, mall people,” Andrea said. “Do they just crawl along like snails and eat overprocessed pretzels all day?”

“Ooh, that reminds me. Remind me to stop by Auntie Anne’s before I leave.”

“By where?”

“It’s the best pretzel place, and this is their only spot in the city.”

“Disgusting,” Andrea muttered, but Sam just laughed. A buttery sound, light like chardonnay. 

“You’ll change your mind when you try one. Salted pretzel, dipped in caramel sauce? It’ll change your life.”

Andrea just wrinkled her nose, and she glanced beside her. “Are you going to pick something? Does the kid even wear jewelry?”

“Mm, no. I wanted to check if they had something for you.” And then, shooting her a sidelong glance, Sam gave a sharp laugh. “You should see your face right now. Babe, I’m just messing with you.”

The sarcastic _babe_ wasn’t a slap, really, nor was it meant as one, but it definitely stung. It reminded Andrea of stupid beer games in someone’s basement, of Sam’s exasperated grin across the pong table, of how loose and confident Sam could get when she had a few drinks in her, and the slow, hot drawl of “ _Aw, babe, is that really all you’ve got?”_

Sweet, confident, loose — more like the Sam that evolved into today.

Andrea shook off the memory.

“I knew you were kidding,” Andrea said after a beat, a little petulantly. “I know you’re not enough of a moron to buy me cheap silver from a _mall_ boutique. If it’s not from—”

“—a place on Beverly Boulevard, then you won’t wear it,” Sam finished for her. “I know. Your taste is high maintenance.” She shrugged with a cheeky smile. “The look on your face was still priceless.”

Andrea rolled her eyes and turned back to the mall people, lifting her coffee back to her mouth. “Whatever. Just hurry up.”

“Why? Eager to take me back to my hotel room?”

Snorting milk shouldn’t be so violent or hurt so damn much, but Andrea nearly hacked up a lung as her hot latté lurched up her nose, and the dribbles that spilled onto her blouse were most definitely going to leave stains she couldn’t wash out. 

Something was easier this time around. Andrea couldn’t place it. 

Maybe it was the fact they were no longer in a gaudy hotel restaurant staring across the table at each other, scrounging for something to say that didn’t fuel the tense, awkward flame dividing them. An easy reason to blame would be Ruby, because how much can they really catch up on when there’s a toddler sighing like the world is ending every twenty seconds? 

Realistically, Andrea just didn’t want to address the fact that what was different was probably _her,_ that Sam had been consistent since dinner last night and Andrea was the one who finally let her shoulders down long enough for a normal conversation. 

It wasn’t like they were even talking about anything between them, anything serious. Andrea suggested Hot Topic for finding a present for Ruby, because _“what teenager doesn’t shop there?_ ” and Sam proceeded to tease her for nearly half an hour about a high school goth phase (which Andrea vowed to delete all evidence of on social media when she got back to the hotel that night). Sam tried to introduce Andrea to Panda Express, and Andrea went on a fourteen minute rant about how the fried food dunked in sugary sauces was the most Americanized fast-food bullshit she had ever seen, and, “ _Sam, don’t tell me you think this is authentic Chinese cuisine, can you even name a single dish served in a proper meal in Beijing_ —”

The food court didn’t work out, but unfortunately, Auntie Anne’s pretzels were about as good as Sam had promised, but Andrea didn’t let that on.

After Sam finally found a pair of Vans sneakers for Ruby, with the repeated pineapple print she supposedly had been obsessed with lately, she shot her daughter a text that she was ready to leave when Ruby was, and from then on it became a waiting game.

“So when is your next flight?” Sam asked as they lingered by the exit, waiting for Ruby.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Andrea answered sourly. “My airline is fucking useless. Apparently we live in the dark ages and weather forecasts don’t mean anything anymore, because they can’t say when flights will resume normally.”

“You do know we’re in a blizzard, right?”

“Don’t start with me. It’s the twenty-first century, a little snow shouldn’t be this disruptive. You drove here just fine, didn’t you?”

“I think driving and flying are a little different, but okay.” Sam smirked, leaning back against the wall beside the exit doors. She had her coat on now, ready to leave, and with her hands tucked into the pockets she just looked so effortlessly relaxed. She looked like she had all the time in the world for this moment, not like she was waiting for Andrea to offer something but as if she were ready for whatever little would come.

They were older, sure. The professional experience Andrea had gained since taking over a major conglomerate company straight from grad schools surpassed decades of practical knowledge those old men in her office had, and clearly the field that Sam chose led to such a profound growth in her person that Andrea could hardly read her anymore. 

But at the same time, four years was just a blink of an eye, and in this moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Andrea wondered, idly, if that was worse.

“Whatever. Hopefully I’ll be out by Monday, but they couldn’t promise anything for the weekend.” Andrea found herself trying to sound more disappointed than she felt. “So, in all likelihood, I’ll be here another couple days.”

Sam’s smile just spread wider, a subtle difference. “How tragic. Does that mean you’re free tomorrow night?”

Andrea’s stomach lurched. “Against my best efforts, probably. Why?”

“Ruby’s going to a friend’s house. I was planning on just ordering room service and watching trashy Hallmarks, but if you’re still here, then…”

“Then?”

Sam laughed. “I’m not implying anything elaborate. I was just wondering if you’d want to do something. If you’re still here, that is. Just, today was nice, and I’d be interested in doing it again.”

Andrea couldn’t find an ulterior motive hidden in her tone, no double-innuendo layered by convenient elusion. It was just Sam, being genuine and straightforward, asking as if they really were just old friends.

It was a full one-eighty from last night, but it felt so right.

“Sure,” Andrea said, the word coming easier than she expected. “That sounds nice.”

* * *

“Can I ask you something?” Andrea asked now that they were settled in their seats, dishes ordered, the complementary baguette eaten, and half their glasses already emptied.

“Sure.”

“You live in National City, right?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“Then why the fuck are you staying at the hotel?”

“Oh,” Sam laughed, leaning forward for her wine. “It was a present from my boss. She was supposed to be the one giving the presentation at the conference, but she decided to take a vacation at the last second. Girlfriend whisked her away or something, so I filled in, and as a way of giving thanks, she set me and Ruby up here for the holiday.”

Andrea considered saying that she knew her boss was Lena, that she _knew_ Lena, but it didn’t seem relevant enough to interject, nor did she want to delve into how many hours she spent ranting to Lena about Sam in the first place all those years ago.

“Your idea of a family holiday is staying in a stranger’s room?” Andrea asked, thinking about how desperate she was to get home.

“More like an excuse to not spend all weekend doing all the laundry and cooking.” Sam reached for the half-empty bottle of wine, holding it out. “You want another glass?”

Unlike their first dinner, ordering wine by the glass, Sam had gone ahead and gotten them a full bottle of a crisp red blend. She nodded, and Sam proceeded to refill her drink.

It was funny, almost. They could have used the extra buzz to perhaps get along better that first night, but indulging in some tonight felt more appropriate for the casual, easy-flowing meal that they found themselves settled in. Everything felt smoother this time around, and for once, Andrea wasn’t second guessing herself.

Maybe that was what set the stage for them to be so honest with each other. 

“Yeah, so last night…” Andrea trailed off, just after their empty entrée plates were taken away.

“Enlightening,” Sam offered with a sarcastic smile, and Andrea laughed in turn.

“I really am—” She paused, biting her lip. “Okay, I’m not _sorry,_ because you have to admit that dinner was awkward as hell, but I do feel somewhat liable in how it ended. But I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say?”

“You mean you didn’t want to talk to me in front of my prepubescent daughter about the sexual relationship we had in college?” Sam asked with mocking surprise. “How horribly callous of you.”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “You’re being a brat, but you’re also proving my point.”

“Why? Did you want to talk about our sexual relationship?”

She was such a bitch, Andrea thought, biting her tongue but unable to dampen the grin spreading across her face.

“No,” she answered finally. “I think I’ve probably embarrassed you enough.”

“Embarrassed me?” Sam asked in humorously exaggerated shock. “I feel like this conversation is more revealing about _you_ than anything else.”

Andrea hesitated, because for the first time in this conversation, she wasn’t sure what that meant. “Which is what?”

“C’mon,” Sam said. “I can’t make _everything_ easy for you.”

Andrea wanted to say something like, _I wish you would,_ but with the sweet way Sam was looking at her now, the suggestive turn of her smile and the weighted eye-contact, Andrea found herself contradicting the sentiment. Maybe it was better this way, all of the unspoken thoughts, wishes, and desires remaining at bay.

Andrea tugged on the collar of her blouse and averted her gaze.

“So, tell me something about you,” Sam said, trying to keep the flow of the conversation going. “Do you still watch those tiresome sports every weekend?”

“If by ‘those sports’ you mean fútbol, then yes. Why do you ask?”

“I just remembered how often you’d scramble to finish your work in time to watch every single game,” Sam said, bringing up the past once more. 

Andrea understood why she was doing it — that one year of friendship was all they had, all they knew about each other, and it was safer to lean on that than it was to try talking about their lives today, given how well that had gone the night before.“It’s funny you ask that, actually. I probably watch them a lot more now than I used to.” 

Speaking about herself wasn’t a foreign concept to Andrea — she revelled in monopolizing conversations and being the center of attention, always had since she was a kid. But those exchanges were usually about her getting some sort of praise, making herself feel more important than whoever she was talking to. 

With Sam, it was different. 

Andrea wasn’t trying to get an edge over her right now. She wasn’t trying to prove her superior accomplishments. For the first time in a long time, Andrea wasn’t just talking about herself to boost her own ego. She was dipping her toes in honesty for the sake of connection, and for that longing feeling in her chest. Miraculously, opening up wasn’t as terrifying as it should have been.

“ _More_?” Sam asked in mock affront. “How is that even possible?”

Andrea let out a light laugh. “I started sponsoring a team, so I try to go to as many of their games as I can.” 

“Must be nicer than watching it on a screen.”

“Yeah,” Andrea said with a chuckle. “I don’t know, I just love seeing the kids running around and having the best time playing.” 

Her answer seemed to take Sam by surprise as the girl lifted her delicately nimble fingers to her face, letting her chin rest gently in the palm of her hand. “Kids?” 

“Yeah, it’s a youth team.”

“Oh, I thought you were sponsoring a team in the big leagues,” Sam said. She leaned a bit closer over the table, probably not even intentional, as if subconsciously drawn deeper into Andrea’s words.

“No, it was for a small team near my childhood house. The kids around there wanted to join the neighbourhood league, but they needed someone to do all the administrative work, and one of the kids approached me, asking if I could help.” Andrea softened as she remembered the encounter. “It was the fastest thing I’ve ever agreed to do.”

The honesty brought a dimpled smile out of Sam. “That’s... really cute, actually.” 

“Cute?” Andrea repeated, because if there was any word that could be used to describe her, it definitely wouldn’t be _cute_ , and even back in college it was never a word they used to describe any part of their dynamic.

“Mhm.” Sam hummed, doubling-down on her chosen words, and she lifted an eyebrow knowingly. “But you said sponsoring, and that sounds like a fair bit more work than just administrative organizing.”

Andrea was never one to be modest about her wealth, but she also wasn’t trying to flaunt it in front of Sam. There was no real reason to do so, if only because it had never been the kind of thing to impress Sam with in the first place.

“What can I say? Those kids just wanted to play football and I’m a sucker for anyone who loves the sport as much as I do.” She was going to leave it at that, but an itch urged her to try and keep going. “Some— Some of my favourite years were spent on that field and I wanted them to be able to have the same experience I had.”

The craziest part was that, as the words slipped out of her, she only felt relief at saying them. It wasn’t pulling teeth to talk to Sam — Andrea just had to take that first step and trust herself, and after that, it all fell into place. It was refreshing to be able to talk about something she held so dear to her heart. And it didn’t help that Sam was fucking beaming at her, looking as if she was enamoured with everything coming out of her mouth.

“Are they any good?” Sam asked. 

Andrea laughed at that. “ _Some_ of them, but I still love watching them play.”

“I get it.” Sam still had that idiotic smile plastered on her face, and as grating as it should be, Andrea found it was only just picking away at all of her walls with every minute that passed. “Sometimes it’s really nice watching kids play.”

It was probably just a passing comment, but there was a glint in Sam’s eyes that felt like there was something there, something Andrea didn’t know about Sam, something that she immediately wanted to find out. 

“Ruby actually joined the school team, so I had to get into it a bit.”

“Really?” Andrea said. Suddenly, the daughter just got interesting. “What position does she play? Striker? Sweeper? Full-Back?”

Sam’s face contorted quickly, probably because she was either perplexed that Andrea was actually asking questions about her daughter or because she didn’t understand those terms. 

“I don’t even know if they assigned proper positions. She just runs around a lot,” she said. 

Andrea made no attempt to stop the heavy, borderline-sickened sigh that fell from her mouth, realizing just how much there was to explain to Sam. Andrea spent nearly the next half hour delving into essential details about the sport and that Sam’s ignorance was outright offensive. She tried to weave Ruby into the argument, because “ _what kind of mother doesn’t take the time to understand her kid’s passions?_ ”

“I understand them just fine,” Sam laughed, leaning back in her seat. Her cheeks were already blushed from the wine, framing her smile like a sunset. “What?” Sam asked self-consciously, and Andrea realized she’d been staring. 

Andrea cleared her throat, blinking her gaze away. Mercifully (almost surprisingly), Sam didn’t say anything or acknowledge it further beyond her slow smile, and she let Andrea quickly change the subject.

  
  


Dessert came and went, leaving them both with less than half of their drinks remaining, the bottle of wine empty on the table. Unless they were ordering another or resorting to harder liquors, this was it. With the humming buzz under her skin that the wine had already granted, Andrea didn’t have much interest in drinking more, but she would if Sam suggested it, if only to prolong this.

Now Sam was the one to be caught watching Andrea, a curious smile on her lips. 

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Sam’s smile pursed wider. 

“You look smug about something.”

“Am I not allowed to be enjoying myself right now?” 

The way she said it, _enjoying myself_ — Andrea shifted in her seat. “Depends what for,” she settled with.

“I just like being with you. Talking to you, catching up without worrying about assignment deadlines.”

It was such a simple admission for Sam. For her, saying she was having a good time was just expected behaviour. She was polite, and she liked to make sure that people knew when she liked having them around. But if Andrea dared admit how she was feeling, it _meant_ something. So where did that leave her when Sam was looking at her with the sweetest look, waiting for her reply, hoping Andrea would take that leap? 

It’s not like she wanted to let her down, but she couldn’t give Sam the words she wanted to hear either.

“It _is_ nice to not have to waste time on those assignments,” Andrea said eventually.

The small smile that covered Sam’s face proved that she thought the admission was close enough. The implication was there, and that’s what mattered. 

Sam glanced down at her watch and sighed. “It’s getting late. Ruby will probably be back any minute now.” 

Andrea nodded, realizing this was as far as their night would go. 

As if seeing something on Andrea’s face, though she had no idea what, Sam added, “I should probably be there when she does.”

“Yeah,” Andrea agreed, unsure what else to say. She didn’t want the night to end, but she understood that when it came to her daughter, nothing else mattered in Sam’s eyes.“I’ll walk up with you, then,” she settled with. 

They only managed to take a few steps inside the lobby before Sam’s phone started ringing, breaking up the casual flow of their conversation as she kindly excused herself to answer it.

“Hi baby! How are you?” Sam exclaimed once she picked up the call. 

She turned to face Andrea and mouthed ‘ _Ruby’_ as an explanation, though Andrea wasn’t sure why she felt the need to clarify. It’s not like she thought Sam had someone else in her life that she called baby, because from what she remembered Sam had never been the type for pet names in the first place. It made her wonder if Sam was clarifying for her sake because there _was_ someone else in her life that she called _baby_ , someone else she spent nights with. Even after the dinner they just spent together, even after all the charged looks and subtly hinted remarks, Andrea still found herself doubting what it all meant. 

There was also the way that they leaned closer to one another like they were attached to a string, one that was pulling them together as the night continued to progress. Even now, as they walked side by side on their way to the elevators, the two girls were close enough that Andrea could bump her arm against Sam’s. Part of her wanted to do it, just to piss Sam off by intentionally knocking into her at full force, yet another part of her was scared to even make the lightest of contact. Even the barest brush of their knuckles, despite how genuinely accidental it was, terrified her.

They had gone through the night thus far without any unnecessary touching. But if Andrea was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure how much longer that would hold up, or even if she wanted to maintain that clean streak.

It was dangerous thinking, that much Andrea knew.

“At _whose_ house?” Sam asked, breaking Andrea free from her thoughts with the change in her tone.

It sounded like concern — the one feeling Sam knew better than most. With all the practice she had in worrying, Andrea was surprised Sam didn’t already have permanent wrinkles across her forehead. 

“It’s not a problem with me, but are you sure?” Sam continued, distractedly reaching for the elevator call button. “We aren’t going to stay in a hotel again anytime soon, and you were so excited when I first told you.”

Of course Andrea never had qualms about eavesdropping before, but she was at least _trying_ to give Sam some privacy here, if only because she respected her enough for that. Still, it was practically impossible to ignore where their conversation was going. And maybe Andrea’s ears perked up just a bit higher, but of course it was more out of general curiosity rather than having a pointed reason. Of course.

“Okay, but you have to promise me that you’ll thank Ms. Williams for her hospitality,” Sam said just as the elevator doors opened. 

The conclusion was easy enough to draw: Ruby wasn’t coming back tonight. In other, more salient words, Sam’s night just freed up.

The entire situation reminded Andrea of those nights in university where her and Sam would attend some extravagant party, one that was crowded and loud enough to hide the moans trying to escape from the thin walls. Those few, rare nights always started the same way with Ruby staying over at a friend’s house, giving Sam the opportunity to let loose and have fun.

Maybe it was a bit presumptuous of Andrea to think that routine might continue tonight, and maybe she despised herself for even wanting that opportunity to present itself once more, but either way, Andrea couldn’t deny the way her heart started hammering against her chest, nerves picking up with just the mere possibility that this night could take a more familiar turn. 

“ _Mom, no one says ‘hospitality’ anymore,_ ” Andrea heard from the phone, faintly muffled.

“And you’re going to be careful, right?” Sam asked, ignoring her and now stepping inside the elevator. “You’ll call me if you need anything?”

Andrea followed right behind her, settling into the corner before realizing she had to press the button for her floor. Except, when she turned around to face the panel, she found that the 38th floor was already lit up. In fact, it was the _only_ number lit up. 

“Okay, but I’m coming for you in the morning. I don’t want you to impose on their generosity.”

There were only two logical reasons for why Sam pushed the button to Andrea’s floor. The first was that she was so caught up in her conversation with Ruby that she forgot to hit the button for her own floor. The second (and in Andrea’s opinion, the more likely reasoning) was that Sam was making a move, a quiet one at that.

“Love you, Ruby. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight baby.” Finally finished, Sam ended the call and looked at Andrea. She opened her mouth to explain, but there was nothing more she needed to add, not after taking one good look at Andrea. 

Instead, Sam decided against speaking, only offering up a small smirk in place of an explanation. It was that same stupid confident look that Sam seemed to have sewn into her skin nowadays. Andrea didn’t know what to make of it. Specifically, because Sam knew _exactly_ how to use it to her advantage, and even when they made time for these escapades years ago, they were never like this. Andrea never _felt_ like this.

“Ruby staying at a friends?” Andrea asked, voice mildly strained, if only to break the silence and avoid addressing that look.

“Yeah, just for tonight. They’re having a sleepover,” Sam answered, still keeping her gaze on Andrea’s every move, as if willing the silence to engulf them in the moment.

That thick, loaded stillness seemed to cloud the small elevator shaft, turning their once amicable interactions into an environment that was filled with tension. It felt like someone turned the temperature up tenfold, letting every unspoken desire build up between them like steam in the small confines of the elevator shaft. There was no room for timidity, only breathless cravings as both women looked at each other like words would never suffice.

Still, it felt like they were playing a game, one where they both knew the outcome but where neither was willing to make the first move. However bold and obvious the move was, Sam could easily pretend she forgot to click the button for her own floor. It still set the scene, and Andrea was still yet to offer anything but her heated stare as the elevator continued to rise.

But they both just waited, for the other to break the silence, to make the move and simultaneously admit defeat. 

Andrea had always been headstrong, but she didn’t imagine Sam would hold onto her current resolve for so long. Sam didn’t have the same stubborn pride that Andrea did, but maybe that’s what made it worse. There was nothing for Sam to lose — she just simply wanted to win. 

Their equal determination held up until the elevators opened on the 38th floor, the ding signaling this was the last chance for either of them to step up and forget their inhibitions if they didn’t want to end the night alone.

“This is you,” Sam said, rocking on her heels, so nonchalant even with her tone so loaded. 

“Right.” After a brief pause, Andrea stepped out from the corner and emerged onto her floor. 

Even if Andrea didn’t want to take the plunge, she still found herself in a tricky situation; at the very least, she’d have to turn around and say goodbye. They didn’t have any other scheduled plans, so if Andrea walked away, this would be it. This would be the last time she’d see Sam for who knows how many years. And even though her self-respect was screaming at her to keep her cool and walk away, Andrea knew she couldn’t bear leaving Sam like this. Or, maybe, she just couldn’t resist one night for her favourite nostalgia. 

If her pride was going to take a hit for something, at least let it be that.

“And what about you?” Andrea asked, still keeping her back to Sam. 

“What about me?”

Andrea turned around, that effortless, automatic confidence masking the true apprehension in her chest. 

“Will you be staying at a friends?” she asked, lifting her eyebrow enough to give that subtle invitation. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” Sam started, keeping her feet glued to their spot. “I’ve got a lot of friends in National City, so I’d have to ask if any of them wouldn’t mind me crashing for the night.”

Sam was clearly yanking her chain, trying her best to get Andrea to outwardly ask her to stay. It was maddening and it made Andrea feel even more withdrawn, more reluctant to give in. 

“You have friends? That’s a change.”

“Is it?”

“I’m pretty sure I was just about your only friend in college, and I _know_ you were a band geek in high school. So yes, bit of a shocker.”

Before Sam had a chance to defend her reputation or even counter the implication that band geeks didn’t have any friends, the elevator door began closing right in front of her. 

Still, Sam didn’t look alarmed. She was as cool and as nonchalant as ever, even as they both watched the opportunity slip away like sand flowing through an hourglass.

Andrea hated it. She hated the fact that Sam had this edge over her. She hated knowing that she wasn’t the one oozing with confidence anymore, twirling any girl she wanted around her fingers. She hated that everything she wanted to say was so stiff and resolutely unmoving in her throat, and she hated that after all this time, it was Sam who brought this out in her. 

Still, more than anything else, Andrea hated the way her arm shot out to stop the door from closing at the very last second. 

It was enough to get a raised eyebrow out of Sam, but still no words. 

Andrea let out a shaky breath, feeling her embarrassment already consuming the last shred of pride she had left in her system. “Come with me.”

Sam smiled. “To your room? Are you forgetting which one of us here has the penthouse suite?”

It was meant as a light-hearted joke, but Andrea couldn’t stand how much Sam was dragging this out.

“Fine, you know what, forget it,” she muttered, turning on her heels. Admitting want was enough of a bruise to her ego, she wasn’t about to start jumping through hoops now.

“Oh c’mon,” Sam laughed, following close behind Andrea, clearly amused with her irritation. “Don’t be like that. I know you always liked it when I chased after you.”

It was funny, hearing Sam joke about her own schoolgirl crush from years ago. There was a sense of awareness in Sam’s words along with that teasing tone, displaying the truth under the guise of a hand-delivered, neatly wrapped semantic present.

“Mm, chasing me after putting me through mental hell,” Andrea muttered. “How thoughtful of you.”

Sam laughed melodically. “Yeah, well, we both know how thoughtful I can be.”

And it was just that easy for them to jump right back into it. 

Andrea couldn’t explain it, but their current banter was sparking something in her no other fling ever could. Sam knew how to push her buttons, and even though Andrea fronted annoyance, it was as if they both knew their defined roles and they were building up this tension in hopes of making that payoff even more fulfilling. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, that determination in Sam’s eyes, that confidence that she never managed to shake off, only worsened the situation even more. Andrea felt herself bending at Sam’s will as the girl inched closer and closer.

“You can kiss me, you know,” Sam whispered, lifting her chin, bringing her lips to Andrea’s ear. 

If Sam wanted a response, her current course of action wasn’t the best way of getting it. Andrea nearly froze on the spot, her brain short-circuiting with the sultry tone that was delicately echoing its way through her eardrums. She hadn’t even had a chance to process the actual words before Sam pulled away, now situating her lips right in front of Andrea’s, ready for the taking. 

“I won’t hold it against you,” she continued. 

And _god_ , Andrea knew what she was doing. She knew that Sam was trying to work her up enough for Andrea to take the plunge. She knew that the second her lips pressed against Sam’s, their whole dynamic would change. It would no longer be Sam chasing after Andrea. Somehow, with that one kiss, Sam would have been able to flip the script, beating Andrea at her own game. 

To make matters worse, Andrea couldn’t even tell anymore if this was their usual game. Their hookups were so much easier when Andrea knew that Sam was head over heels for her. But right now, aside from the sinful bite of her lower lip, Sam didn’t give any indication that she was dying to be with Andrea. The implication that this was just a fling for Sam, and that she wasn’t crushing over Andrea was both refreshing and baffling. It was exactly what she needed, and exactly what she never wanted.

Sleeping together like this would be new territory, and as unnerving as that implication was, Andrea couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. 

Sam was here, looking at Andrea with _want_ in her eyes, and just like that, Andrea rid her mind of any concerns and leaned forward, pressing her mouth against Sam’s in a rush.

She tasted like— like a sour candy, because of _course_ she did. Sweet, alluring, but with a bite afterward that made Andrea’s heart stutter in her chest. Sam kissed her back so smoothly like this was rehearsed, like she was ready for this exact moment that Andrea chose, and she dipped her neck down to meet Andrea so languidly as if they did this every day. The faintest puff of air fell from her lips into Andrea’s mouth, not quite a gasp, but a sweet, hot exhale that spread down Andrea’s throat like the aftermath burn of a sugary liqueur — delicately rich on that first taste over her tongue and the thick, sweet aftertaste as it went down, and finally, a dizzying lurch of pleasure hot in her stomach when it finally settled.

She was embarrassingly affected by such a simple kiss, and she refused to admit it had anything to do with who it was with.

“I just need t—” Andrea started to say before her key card slipped out of her sweaty palms. 

“Relax,” Sam whispered with a quiet laugh, picking the key card off the floor and unlocking the door with ease. 

At this point, Sam was just showing off. And even though Andrea knew she’d be a pain in the ass about it, flaunting her newfound power for the rest of the night, Andrea was too caught up in the moment to even care.

Tomorrow, she’d chastise herself for succumbing to pleasure and losing her dignity, but for tonight, Andrea would capitalize on the moment, admiring the curves on Sam’s body and letting herself succumb to the sweet temptation of nostalgia. 

Because tonight, she could pretend that was all this was.

* * *

When Andrea awoke the next morning, she was expecting to find herself in a half empty-bed, sheets tossed to the side, still wrinkled with the hand-clutched twists from the night before. There’d be a folded note on the corner of her night-table with a scribbled ‘ _till next time_ written in the loopiest handwriting. It was all that Sam ever used to leave behind after one of their late nightcaps. 

It was all Andrea was used to, all that she managed to accept. It was routine, and they never had a reason to change it.

So, the fact that Sam was still in her bed, arm draped over Andrea’s stomach, gently holding onto her like this was something normal for them, was more than enough to send Andrea to the ER. The real kicker was the smallest of breaths gusting against the back of Andrea’s neck, suggesting only one thing.

 _Am I being fucking spooned right now?_

She turned her body over, confirming her suspicions, finding Sam nuzzled closely to her. 

As much as Andrea wanted to panic about the implications of Sam staying the night, all thoughts left her mind when she saw Sam’s chest rising and falling peacefully. Her hair was scattered all over, across the pillows and multiple strands hiding parts of her face, unwashed makeup from the night before smudged under her eyes, but still, she looked effortlessly beautiful, and for the life of her, Andrea couldn’t understand why they never made it work. 

Or rather, why _she_ never let it work. Because it always came down to Andrea staking the boundaries and living by them, telling herself that she could never be with someone like Sam. But at the same time, Andrea was starting to realize that she couldn’t see herself with anyone else. Sam was the closest she ever got to a real relationship, even if they were never considered one, and the slow dawn of this realization made her chest tighten.

Andrea frequently had late night guests, but it was always for the thrill, and there was never any substance behind those nights. Truthfully, she could hardly remember half of them. Yet, when it came to those nights with Sam, Andrea could try everything, but she’d never forget them.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Sam asked, eyes still closed, and a slow smirk pulling her mouth. 

The question caught Andrea off-guard, making her jerk backwards, wondering just how long Sam had been awake. “No,” she said, now grounding herself as she rifled through her brain for a logical response. “I was just wondering what you’re still doing here,” she settled on saying, surprising herself with how fast the defense came. 

“I’m going, don’t worry,” Sam said with a light laugh as she sat up in the bed. Apparently, she wasn’t overly concerned about the implications of sleeping over, and she thought the entire thing was funny, already retracting her arms and stretching them over her head. “I have to pick up Ruby anyway.” 

Andrea assumed stretching was part of Sam’s morning routine, and as great as that was for the girl, Andrea didn’t _have_ to sit there and witness it. More specifically, she didn’t have to see the way Sam’s shirt rose up, exposing her midriff and her bare legs alike. 

It was different seeing Sam in the early daylit hours, half-undressed, making light-hearted jokes and talking about how she was going to go pick up her daughter. The domesticity was sickening, but that didn’t mean Andrea hated it. In fact, she was loving every second of their morning, and that was precisely the problem. 

As intimate as this all seemed to be, in reality it was just the typical, casual way that Sam always acted, which made it all the more worse. Sam probably acted with such ease because she thought that was what Andrea wanted, yet it was that simple intimacy that Andrea craved, which she knew from the very standards she herself set would never be real.

The routine that they had set up so many years ago was now shattered like that snow globe from the mall. Part of Andrea wanted to let the scene unfold in its new environment, to admit that she was wrong in the past and to take that leap into the unknown, relishing in the new moments and the old-but-perhaps-now-reformed moments like this one, because it was just so damn nice waking up next to Sam — that was the truth. But as idyllic as that sounded, Andrea didn’t even know how Sam felt — if she considered this as much of a one-night stand as they played it off to be or if that was solely a front for Andrea’s benefit —and a bigger part of Andrea wanted to just glue that old snow globe back together, to resume that picture-perfect moment where she knew all the variables and nothing came as a surprise. 

Because living like this, opening her life up to new possibilities, was completely terrifying. And as confident as Andrea was, she wasn’t ready to take that leap, not yet anyway. 

“Do you maybe want to put some pants on?” Andrea asked, turning to look away, a certain degree of annoyance layered in her tone. 

Sam huffed a wry laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t need to be like this.”

“Like what?” 

“You’re being weird.” Sam rolled out of bed, picking her pants off the carpeted floor.

Andrea knew she was being combative for no reason, but how was she supposed to act when her heart was telling her one thing and her brain was screaming another?

“You stayed over,” Andrea said as if that was enough of an explanation.

Sam scrunched up her face, confused with Andrea’s question. “Yeah, well. You did ask me if I was going to stay at a friend’s, so I thought it was implied.” 

“You’ve never stayed over before.” 

Sam clasped her belt around her pants, but even with her gaze focused down on working through the small loops, Andrea could still feel her rolling her eyes. “Everything really is always so complicated with you.”

“I like complicated.” 

“I know,” Sam quickly added before letting a silence fall upon the room. She ran her fingers through her hair, and let out a sigh. “Look. Me staying over doesn’t mean anything, if that’s your concern.”

“It doesn’t?” The words managed to slip out of Andrea’s mouth before she could think to withhold it, which Andrea would blame on the early, still-uncaffeinated morning.

Even Sam’s eyes softened upon hearing the slight diffidence. “Do you want it to?” 

“Well, it’s just—You said you had to pick up Ruby,” Andrea backpedalled, changing her sentence midway to stop herself from admitting something far more truthful than she intended.

Sam was kind enough not to press. She nodded to herself, almost like she was confirming something. “Well, I had a good time last night.”

“It won’t happen again,” Andrea said firmly as if Sam hadn’t spoken. She had to make sure Sam wasn’t getting any ideas from that near admission. “I’m getting on a flight tomorrow, so this is it.”

They both knew it wasn't true. They both knew the chances of a flight actually going out during the worst blizzard National City had ever seen was close to none. It was simply a pathetic attempt at escaping the conversation, begging Sam for one more way out so that Andrea could avoid confessing the very thing she’d never admitted even to herself. 

Sam swung her jacket over her shoulder, not even bothering to wear it properly. “Get home safe, Andrea,” she said, monotonous, her tone low and flat. 

“You too,” Andrea whispered, letting those well-wishes punctuate their last moment. 

For the rest of her day, Andrea tried busying herself with any task she could think of. 

She started by calling her assistant back in Argentina, asking her to scan and email any documents that were piling on Andrea’s desk. Considering that she’d been in National City for a few days, Andrea assumed her desk would be overflowing with paperwork. To her surprise, she only received two PDFs, both a page long, solely requiring her signature. It took all of five minutes for her to read both documents and sign off on them.

From there, Andrea went to the spa, redid her manicured nails, changing the colour for the sake of trying something different, all in an effort to distract herself from thinking about the inevitable.

It was absolutely ridiculous, but Andrea found herself missing her. She spent most of the last three days with her, and _still_ , Andrea wanted more. 

How she could go from spending four years apart to missing Sam after not seeing her for a couple of hours was pathetic, and the entire reason why Andrea knew she needed to back away. It was getting excessive and this filthy, clingy longing was just absurd, because Andrea was so not the clingy type. She made friends in high places, only to drop them like flies when they ran their use. 

But getting a recurring taste of Sam’s affection stirred something in Andrea, as if Sam was a key ingredient she didn’t realize she was missing in the first place. Andrea yearned for another conversation with her, but she knew she wasn’t going to get it after that morning.

No, reaching out was completely out of question. 

Andrea just had to suck it up, waste another day in National City, and then early tomorrow she’d try her best at getting any flight home. 

Back in Argentina, a safe distance away from Sam, everything would return back to normal.


	2. the road not taken looks real good now

This time, it seemed they brought out the manager of the manager to talk to Andrea. The one she spoke to last time cowered just behind, and the new one gave Andrea a stiff look as he said, “You see, we do have a few select flights going out today—”

“Perfect,” Andrea interrupted, flicking her credit card impatiently. “Let’s get this going, then.”

“—but they are all full.”

She heard that wrong. “Excuse me?”

The manager clasped his hands together tentatively. “Everything was booked up within an hour of schedules resuming.”

“And you just didn’t think to call me?” Andrea asked, no attempt at masking her rising irritation. “I’ve been here every day since Thursday.”

After a few keyboard clicks, he added, “Our next available flight will be Friday afternoon. Is that al—?”

“ _Friday?_ How many people in this godforsaken city are travelling to Buenos Aires right now?”

“As I said, we are being selective with the number of flights—”

Friday was Christmas, and for the first time this trip, the true, dreary nature of this holiday began to set coldly in Andrea’s chest. She hardly gave a damn about this time of year, and while the festive cheer was always obnoxious, it never grated too roughly on her. 

But this was the first year she was supposed to spend Christmas with her father, the first time they both had managed to clear their work schedules for just the one day, and after years of missed opportunities, Andrea had been looking forward to it more than she could put into words. The frustration brimmed on upset, and a hot sting burned behind her eyes as she thought about how they would have to push off their day yet again.

“Whatever, I’ll take it,” Andrea said bitterly, her tone tense as she struggled to keep it from trembling. She wasn’t doing this right now. 

“Wonderful!” The manager grinned, far too happy and quick on the keyboard to get the booking moving. He printed off her itinerary receipt, and as he handed it across to her, he looked beyond pleased. “Thank you as always for being a loyal member and choosing—”

Andrea didn’t linger. “Este pendejo,” she muttered, stalking off.

Maybe it was the sour, melancholy sting that Andrea struggled not to dwell on but couldn’t shake off from the news, but she found her brute stubbornness wavering. She was _lonely_ , and that was impossible to ignore as she watched all the families lovingly together, flaunting their happiness. 

She could tell herself it was only because of that, because of her longing for home and her father, that she came here looking for her. She could tell herself that seeking out Sam was just a placeholder because she was the only person Andrea knew in the city, and so where else would she go?

But the excuses sounded pathetic in her own head, and Andrea didn’t care much about them.

Sam had mentioned taking Ruby ice-skating today, and the only thing more embarrassing than Andrea lying to herself about why she came here today was the fact that she came up with the ploy in the first place.

Andrea had the driver take her luggage back to the hotel ( _again_ ) before waiting around the city ice-rink for nearly an hour, expecting her to show up. It was bitterly cold, even inside the skate-rental stand, and Andrea felt ridiculous lingering in her Dolce sunglasses, off to the side, just waiting until the familiar pair appeared in line.

It wasn’t until they did, and Andrea subtly stepped in line just behind the mother and daughter, that she realized she was going to have to wear _publicly used_ footwear, and that thought alone made her nearly abandon this silly ordeal altogether.

But Sam and Ruby were already turning around with their rented skates, and Sam saw her almost immediately. She stopped, her smile falling, eyes frozen. There was no snow globe to shatter this time, but the look on Sam’s face in that moment felt enough like one.

“Hi,” Andrea said, weakly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She half-expected Sam to be annoyed, to see right through her stupid scheme and to be tired of this game. It would be well enough deserved at this point, and Andrea was feeling low enough that an argument might even feel cathartic right now.

But instead, Sam’s eyes just softened like they always did, that same chardonnay smile. “How serendipitous.”

“Is it?”

“Considering you hate ice skating, yeah, I’d say so.”

“Next,” the rental associate repeated firmly, giving Andrea an annoyed look.

Even if checking out a pair of used skates made her physically nauseous, Andrea did it anyway, and she was surprised to find Sam and Ruby waiting off to the side of the rink for her afterwards. The surprise probably showed because Sam shrugged as she stepped up to meet them. 

“Do you want to join us?” Sam asked, not quite sincere but not disingenuous either.

She didn’t know what else there was to say, too tired to play coy, so she nodded. 

It wasn’t long before the trio took off on the ice, starting with a slow start. Sam was wedged in between Ruby and Andrea, ensuring they were both maintaining their balance, though Andrea had a feeling it was less for her daughter and more for Andrea’s sake.

“What happened to your flight?” Sam asked, now turning to look at Andrea.

“What do you think?”

“Cancelled?”

Andrea just nodded.

“That sucks.” After a pause, Sam added, “If I say I’m glad you’re here, are you going to run off again?”

Andrea swallowed thickly, but she put on a stronger smile than she felt. “With these industrial blades stuck to my feet? I doubt I could if I tried.”

Sam chuckled, shaking her head. “How convenient for us, then.”

Ruby skated out in front, smoothly spinning around so she was moving backwards and facing them. A show-off like her mother. “Are you guys going to be this slow the whole time?”

“This one is,” Sam said, nodding at Andrea. “Leave her alone too long and she’ll be on her ass before you know it.”

Ruby just snorted, but Andrea swatted at Sam’s arm irritably. “That is absolutely not true.”

“It was four years ago,” Sam said with a slanted smile. “History repeats itself, babe.”

The sarcastic pet name didn’t sting as much this time. It just made Andrea wish it meant something else. And— did she want history to repeat itself? Was she looking for a new outcome? Would this all be easier if she knew that it would always end in the same way?

“Okay well,” Ruby said to her mom, interrupting Andrea’s thoughts. “Lemme race you around the rink, and whoever gets back before she faceplants, wins.”

“Oh,” Sam laughed before Andrea could object. “You are _so_ on.”

Being left quite literally in the frosty dust of their race should’ve felt lonelier than it did, especially given all the families around them, but Andrea couldn’t help but smile as she watched them take off.

Andrea continued to glide along slowly as the pair raced about, and it was less than two minutes later that Ruby came scraping to a stop in front of Andrea, her cheeks rosy from exhilaration and a laugh still in her throat. Andrea expected Sam to come closely on her heels, but when she didn’t, Andrea glanced over shoulder to find her nowhere in sight.

“You really kicked her ass, didn’t you?” Andrea asked Ruby amusedly.

“Yeah, totally.” Ruby was still catching her breath. “I mean, I think she actually saw somebody and stopped to talk to them, but I still owned her.”

Andrea glanced out across the ice, trying to get a glimpse at who would have caught Sam’s eye, but the area was too crowded to pick her out. When she looked back, Ruby was giving her a curious look, and it was almost chilling how similar the dip of her frown and pursed mouth resembled that of her mother’s.

“What?” Andrea asked. 

Ruby continued to skate backwards, though she was slow enough to keep in pace with Andrea’s lazy trek. The girl shrugged nonchalantly, her shoulders small in her thick winter coat. 

“Nothing. You’ve just been hanging around a lot lately, is all.”

Andrea had never done the _relationship_ thing before. Which wasn’t to say that whatever was happening between her and Sam now was _that_ , but just that the whole ‘intermingling with the family of the person you’re sleeping with’ had never been a trade Andrea practiced. It was one thing to offer a flat smile and a brief wave to the child in Sam’s apartment as she was left with a babysitter whenever Sam left for a class or a study session, but it was another thing to be alone with a near-teenager who had her sights narrowed on Andrea now like a parent assessing her intentions.

Whether it was too personal for Andrea’s boundaries, or she just had no idea what Ruby was doing here, did it really matter? Andrea’s skin itched under a stare like that either way.

“Is that a problem?” Andrea asked.

“No.” Ruby shrugged again, arms loose. “But every time I’ve asked about you, she answers me like you’ve already left, and then, all of a sudden — there you are again.”

She wasn’t going to be strong-armed by a child. She smiled. “You ask her about me?”

“Yeah, like I ask about the old bologna that’s been in the fridge for weeks but my mom refuses to throw out.”

The comparison was too absurd for Andrea to be offended, and she barked a laugh. “Oh is that what you’re waiting for? Her to throw me out?”

Ruby’s eyes narrowed, only slightly. “I know you spent the weekend together.”

Jesus _christ_ , Andrea needed a drink, and stuffy hotel wine absolutely was not going to cut it tonight.

“Yes,” Andrea said stiffly, clenching and unclenching her gloved hands. “We did, we had dinner. It was just a… gal pal thing.”

“So like, a date?”

“It’s complicated.” 

“Which means?”

Maybe this was too much. “I care about your mom. That’s all that matters, right?”

Ruby snorted. “Did you also care about her when you broke her heart?” 

“What?” Andrea let out, not even realizing she spoke at all. She wasn’t even close to ready for the turn this conversation took. “I didn’t—I—”

“I don’t know what happened between you and my mom, but one day you just stopped showing up,” Ruby said. She was still skating backwards, effortlessly maintaining her balance while casually grilling Andrea as the rest of the crowd passed them by. “Everytime I asked her why you weren’t studying together, she just got annoyed and then said she had a headache.” Ruby glanced away. “Mom had a lot of headaches that year.” 

Every word that Ruby said was like another punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of Andrea, keeping her at bay and making it harder for her to find her words and fight back. 

Truthfully, Andrea didn’t realize the toll her absence had on Sam. She was under the impression that they both understood the boundaries to their relationship. So what was she supposed to do now that Sam’s daughter was revealing the truth that even Sam herself concealed? How was Andrea supposed to respond when it was the first time that she was hearing of any of this? 

Before Andrea could even scramble for whatever half-hearted apology she could muster, Ruby kept going, rephrasing her earlier question. “So, did you care about her when you left? Or did you just not look back?” 

It was such a simple question, and the bluntness of the entire conversation forced Andrea to be honest with even herself. 

“Of course I cared.”

“Well, that’s my point, then. Just ‘cause you care about somebody, it doesn’t always mean a whole lot. There’s more that matters than just that.”

Andrea never imagined a twelve year old would put her in her place, but it was hard not to appreciate the way Ruby questioned her in such an efficient way. She definitely got that from Sam.

 _Sam,_ who she apparently hurt so badly without even realizing it. The woman whose daughter was stepping up to the challenge, warning Andrea about the complicated nature to their relationship, pulling Andrea’s true emotions out of that cold, hollow vault where she locked every embarrassing feeling she ever had. 

Andrea did care about Sam. She cared back then, and she cared today. But the entire conversation still filled her with doubt. For her intentions, for this situation, for everything. 

“ _Hey._ ” Sam came skidding up breathlessly beside them, her arm catching on Andrea’s, her pink-cheeked grin identical to that of her daughter’s when Ruby had come back just minutes before. Andrea swung with her trajectory, almost knocked off balance, but Sam stabled them both before they went sprawling, and it left them hip-to-hip, Sam’s arm still hooked through hers.

Ruby just quirked her eyebrow at Andrea, but all other indications of the conversation they’d just had were already gone.

“Sorry, I saw one of the girls from the lab floor,” Sam explained, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Andrea followed the motion, unnecessarily endeared by it and the quick rush of Sam’s words. As if nothing had changed, like yesterday morning hadn’t happened, like Andrea wasn’t leaving her behind at every chance she got.

She swallowed the thought.

They continued to skate around — still slowly, for Andrea’s sake — and Ruby alternated between keeping a few paces ahead and occasionally looping around them in circles, always close by. 

Still, there was a somber cloud that followed, that Andrea couldn’t shake off, partially from her conversation with Ruby but mostly from the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to spend Christmas with her father. She thought she was doing a good job of hiding it as they made idle conversation, talking about anything except that morning or the day before, but after a father and his small daughter passed by them, and Andrea’s gaze lingered on them a little too long, she knew all her attempts for subtlety were for nothing.

“Hey.” Sam bumped her shoulder with her own, dipping forward slightly to catch her eye. “You doing okay?” 

Whether she’d already noticed Andrea’s dark mood or just picked up on it now, Andrea couldn’t tell. She considered lying, but—

It was Sam. 

Andrea explained the situation with the flights, how there would be nothing until Christmas night and so the one hope she had to spend a holiday with her father had already fallen through. She explained how it was the one year they were both free and yet they still couldn’t make it together. It was just a day like any other, but all the festivities around them only emphasized the distance between her and home.

Sam still hovered close to her side, skating just a breath ahead of her. “I mean, just because you’re not going to be with him doesn’t mean you can’t still celebrate Christmas.”

Andrea raised her brow. “Alone?”

“You can FaceTime him or something.”

“Yeah, we already made plans for that, but you’d be surprised how bad my father is with technology even though he helps me run a tech company,” Andrea said with a light laugh, remembering all the times her father accidentally ended a phone call when he was meaning to adjust the volume. “So, we only scheduled a video chat for an hour. After that, it’ll just be me stuck in the city, waiting for this storm to blow over.”

Sam momentarily lowered her eyes before they flickered up like a switch was turned on. “Why don’t you do the call and then join me and Rubes afterwards?”

Andrea laughed, because surely she was joking. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You’re free, and it’ll be fun. Hey Ruby, what do you think?”

Andrea could think of a million reasons _why not_ , her prior conversation with Ruby being one of them. At Sam’s question, her daughter spun around to face them. Andrea thought that Ruby might subtly chide her again, but apparently the girl made peace with their conversation and she’d already moved on. She gave them a bored look. “Yeah, sure.”

“See?” Sam beamed at Andrea. “She’s on board.”

“I’m no child psychologist, but that sounds more like a ‘ _yeah sure mom leave me alone,’_ answer than actual agreement.”

Sam just huffed, and she shot her daughter another admonishing look, to which Ruby just rolled her eyes dramatically.

Begrudgingly, the girl shot Andrea a droll look. "It would mean the whole world to my innocent child heart if you would join us for this dumb, beautiful holiday.”

Sam turned back to Andrea with a triumphant smile, as if Ruby had gotten on her knees and begged Andrea to stay.

Maybe once, Andrea could’ve resisted those twinkling eyes or the hopeful way Sam bit her lip. Now, it just seemed inevitable that Andrea would cave.

“Okay, okay. Fine.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop her own small smile from escaping. “I’ll come over for a couple hours.”

“For the day?”

“The afternoon.”

“Deal.”

Andrea almost couldn’t believe how carefree Sam looked back at her, gentle and light like the snowfall around them. Almost accidentally, Andrea chanced a look at Ruby, but the daughter was still paces far ahead of them. Of course Andrea believed everything she said, but from Sam’s expression now and how easy she kept making this for Andrea, it was hard to rationalize the two ideas together. Sam, heartbroken and bitter when Andrea left, and then Sam now, sweet and open and forgiving when Andrea came back. 

Andrea knew she didn’t deserve it, this kindness. That didn’t make it any easier to resist.

Andrea didn’t expect Sam and Ruby to come knocking on her door first thing in the morning, beaming with enthusiasm and holding a bagful of decorations, citing the events they planned for today and how they “ _won’t take no for an answer because everyone deserved to enjoy the holiday season_.”

Well, Sam took care of most of the enthusiasm. Ruby was less excited, loitering around like she had no choice but to agree with her mother’s high-spirited plans. Still, even she gave Andrea an expectant look as if to say _let’s get this over with, please._

So, Andrea found herself agreeing, if only to placate Ruby and to wipe that pleading look off Sam’s face. But her acceptance only widened Sam’s smile further, leaving Andrea with an unexpected overwhelming adoration for her. 

She tried her best to ignore it, averting her focus to just putting one foot in front of the other as she followed the two girls towards the elevator. But to her surprise, they stopped just short of the elevator, and Sam was pushing open the door for the stairwell. 

“We’re taking the stairs,” Sam said at Andrea’s hesitance, like amusedly explaining something simple to a child. . 

Normally, Andrea would put up more of a fight, but seeing as Sam’s floor was only two flights up, she didn’t feel like debating the matter. Sam would only patronize her if she argued against it, and Andrea preferred saving her energy for a battle she knew she’d win. So, she simply nodded and followed along, only to come to a harsh stop again when Sam started descending the steps.

“Where are you going?” Andrea asked. 

Sam paused, throwing a frown over her shoulder. “To my car.” 

“I thought we were decorating your place?”

“Yeah, as in my house,” Sam said, eyes scanning Andrea’s like she was trying to understand her train of thought. “We’re not celebrating Christmas in a hotel.”

Ruby let out a snort like she found Andrea’s bewilderment equally hilarious. 

Two flights was one thing, but this? “Yeah, you can forget it. I’m taking the elevator.”

“You aren’t serious,” Sam said, giving the same exasperated look she used to give Andrea when she would pour a finger of whiskey in her morning coffee before Friday lectures.

“It’s thirty-eight flights.”

“So?” 

“I’m wearing Jimmy Choo’s.”

“Hey, if you’re staying with us for Christmas, does that mean you’ll buy me a present?” Ruby cut in. “Because I’d kill for one of those.”

“ _No,_ you’d twist your ankle before you made it even two steps,” Sam said, and then pointed a finger towards Andrea. “And you, don’t even think about it.”

Andrea wasn’t. She didn’t even realize that staying for Christmas meant she’d have to buy them gifts in the first place. 

“Sounds like a no, kid. Maybe next year.” 

Andrea meant it as a joke. They were supposed to laugh because _obviously_ her joining them would be an isolated incident. But when Sam’s eyes shot to Ruby’s and the pair shared an unsettled look, Andrea realized the joke might’ve been in poor taste, might’ve weighed heavier than she intended. She didn’t have to worry about it for too long as the two looked away, because they all seemed to wordlessly agree on ignoring the insinuation. Ruby sulked at the thought of not getting a new luxurious article, and Sam continued to be hung up on Andrea’s stubbornness. 

“I don’t even understand how you’re wearing those. It’s freezing outside. And there’s like, four inches of snow on the sidewalk right now.”

“I’ll have you know, these are actually from the winter collection. They’re perfect for the occasion.” After a pause, Andrea glanced at the stairs. “For the holidays, I mean. Not… athletic activity.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, take the elevator. We’ll meet you in parking then.” 

Triumphantly, Andrea immediately backed away to call the elevator. It was only when she made it to the parking garage and had to wait for their return that she realized how she drew the short straw. The head-start gave Andrea ample time to stand alone, mindlessly overthinking about the situation she found herself in. She actually agreed to spending time with the two of them. More than that, she was _actually_ excited about it. It was so uncharacteristic of her to look forward to something so jovial, but as she continued eagerly waiting for them to arrive, she couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore. 

Sam was making an effort for Andrea to have the Christmas day she was missing, and Andrea couldn’t remember the last time someone had tried so hard just to cheer her up. Of course, she’d be the last person to admit aloud how touching that was, so when they popped out of the safety exit five minutes later, Andrea was quick to conceal her emotions in the best way she knew how. 

“Jesus, can you two walk any slower?”

“Oh, _much_ ,” Sam said smugly just before slowing her walking pace tenfold, moving her lanky limbs around like she was stuck in bullet time from the Matrix. 

Andrea playfully pushed her shoulder in. “Seriously, get a move on before I change my mind about being here.” 

As they drove towards the house, Andrea felt Sam’s eyes on her like a hawk. She kept giving these side glances, looking as if she couldn’t believe that Andrea was still there, like she was expecting her to disappear if she didn’t keep checking up on her.

It broke Andrea’s heart to see her acting like that, but she understood the reasoning. She hadn’t been the most stable person in the world. Not four years ago, and not even in the last week. But seeing the continued effect it had on Sam was enough to make Andrea want to try to break the cycle.

“Guess which house is ours,” Ruby said from the backseat, leaning forward over the center console, oddly eager to engage in a conversation with Andrea. Her phone probably died. 

“Ruby, get your buckle back on,” Sam quickly reprimanded her daughter. But she did slow down the speed of the car, shooting even quicker, more noticeable glances at Andrea as if she was waiting for an answer to Ruby’s question. 

Looking ahead, Andrea tried her best to peer through the flurries. It was hard to tell which house might’ve belonged to the Arias’ considering that they all looked identical with bright lights adorning the railings and the shutters of each dwelling. Some houses had candy canes on the lawn, lighting up the path to the entrance. Others had red and green lights outlining the bushes. All in all, the street looked like it was pulling even more electricity than the theatre room on the third floor of Andrea’s mansion. Talk about excessive. 

“They all look the same.” 

“Look closer,” Sam encouraged.

So Andrea did, turning her gaze once more on the street in front of them. Her eyes scanned around for something, anything that might hint at the answer. She didn’t have to inspect for much longer as her eyes landed on something tall, white, and wearing a top hat.

She rolled her eyes back to Sam. “Tell me it’s not the only one with a fucking snowman on the roof.” 

“Isn’t he cute?” Sam gushed, now resuming to a steady speed as they approached the house. “He was on sale at Walmart last week.”

She had a large smile spread across her face, displaying her own appreciation for her hard work. Her arm was still draped over the wheel, teeth nibbling on the bottom of her lip as she stared ahead ensuring the trio was safe and sound in the confines of the vehicle. 

It was effortless, really, the way she demanded Andrea’s attention without even trying, without even realizing. 

“Definitely cute,” Andrea said, keeping her eyes glued on Sam’s every move. 

She knew she was being obvious, she knew that Sam sensed her gaze, and would turn to look at any second. The solution was simple, all she had to do was turn away and pretend that she wasn’t admiring Sam, that she wasn’t caught up in the moment. But for once, it didn’t seem worth it. Andrea was tired of hiding the emotions that were panging against her chest, begging to be released. So when Sam eventually looked at her, acknowledging the comment with a raised eyebrow, Andrea didn’t fight it. She simply smiled back, letting Sam know that she had been staring, that the comment was for her, that Andrea meant it. 

It was a small admission, the first she had made in years without the ulterior motive of taking Sam to bed, made only for the simple fact that she wanted to say it. But the reaction she got from Sam, the small rose-colored blush creeping up on her face, making her look like a younger-version of herself, made the intimate confession worth it.

It only took Andrea one step inside the house before she found herself wondering what there was left to decorate. The inside already looked like Santa’s elves barfed up the whole North Pole. Every surface was fixed up with flashing lights, glass snowflakes and golden wreaths. The whole scene was nauseating.

“Ruby, start unpacking everything on the kitchen table,” Sam said, shifting the bag of decorations over before her daughter could object.

Ruby dropped her head back with a loud groan but otherwise didn’t argue, kicking off her boots and immediately making her way to the kitchen with the bag in tow. 

“So, this is home,” Sam announced, turning to look at Andrea with a nervous smile. “What do you think?” 

“It’s very—” Andrea started, reflexively about to recite a handful of devastatingly specific insults, but she stopped. 

As she continued looking around the house, she struggled to come up with her usual belittlings. Beyond the fine glass and gold decal, the rest of the decorations were tacky and cheap, some of them even looked homemade, probably from various school projects Ruby did when she was younger. It should have been easy to insult, but everything about the scene just made Andrea soften even more.

“It’s very you,” she settled on finally. 

“Evasive answer. Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“Well, it’s not an insult.” 

Sam rolled her eyes as she undid her boots, carelessly tossing them to the side much like her daughter had. “I’m gonna help Ruby get everything together. Make yourself at home. Or, you know, do your best, because we don’t have a jacuzzi or anything like you do, so I know that might be hard for you.”

Andrea just laughed, but now that Sam mentioned it, all this cold weather made her truly long for the hot tub on her outdoor deck back home. Though Sam’s home wasn’t the worst alternative. And being left alone in this room had its perks, giving Andrea the perfect opportunity to learn more about Sam. 

Wandering into the living room, she started by idly browsing through her DVD collection, her eyes falling on the _X-Files_ ten-season box set, because _of course,_ Sam would be the type to believe in aliens. Strewn over the coffee table was an array of health & fitness magazines organized in chronological order from newest to oldest. By the looks of it, Sam seemed to collect them monthly. The curtains were drab, because apparently Sam still had no eye for color coordination, but they were thick enough to frame the tall windows nicely. There was a fireplace, though for a moment Andrea couldn't tell if it was real or not given how clean it was. There was no art on the off-white, ivory walls, and none of the furniture seemed to come from the same set.

It was all very insightful yet useless at the same time, and still, Andrea couldn’t stop searching. 

When she turned the corner, finally she came across wall decorations other than the festive vomit. Framed pictures adorned just the one wall, but in Sam’s true, sentimental fashion, there were dozens. Sam had photos everywhere, marking the smallest of events like buying a new computer to the biggest like capturing the exact moment that Ruby learned how to ride a bike. Andrea didn’t even realize she was smiling like an idiot until she found herself reaching for one, trailing her index finger faintly along the frame’s edge.

It was a picture of Sam smiling with aviator shades on her face, Ruby on her shoulders, and an orange-sombre sunset behind them. It didn’t look like it was taken in National City, and it had to be from when Ruby was still just a toddler, but there were these identical smiles on both girls, capturing their absolute state of euphoria. Andrea loved it, and she found herself caught on the picture for longer than necessary.

When she finally looked away from the frame, moving onto the next, Andrea swore she viscerally felt her heart skip a beat. Because right there, hung up on the wall, just above the beautiful sunset picture, there was a framed photo of the last night that Andrea saw Sam. The night that everything changed. 

They were both at a party, sitting so close on a sofa that Sam was practically in Andrea’s lap, Sam’s cheeks squished up against Andrea's, drunk and goofy smiles on both their faces, one that Andrea didn’t even remember making. They looked so happy, living in that moment where everything was still light and fun. 

But Andrea knew what came barely ten minutes after that picture was taken. She knew the way her usual bite kicked in, her instinctual nature of being more cruelly honest than anyone ever needed her to be, breaking Sam’s heart and leaving her alone to pick up the pieces like glass on the floor. 

There was no way that this was a happy memory for Sam. It couldn’t be, not when it was one that Andrea found herself regretting more and more with every passing day. It didn’t make sense that Sam would want to hang it up on her wall, undusted and framed with the rest of her best memories for the world to see. For _her_ to see, every day, every morning before coffee after coming down the stairs just down the hall. 

“Do you remember that night?” 

Andrea jerked back to find Sam leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, carefully watching Andrea.

“It’s hard to forget it,” Andrea muttered, dropping her eyes for a moment. “I was…” she started, before losing steam. 

Four years. It had been four years since those words flew out of her mouth. Four years of her avoiding Sam, avoiding the apology that she so desperately needed to give. She lifted her eyes, cautiously parting her lips, readying herself for Sam’s imminent reaction.

“I was just… so clearly wrong about you.”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted up, but she didn’t say anything, not right away. She looked like she was stirring Andrea’s apology around in her mind, turning it over like a curious artifact to observe from all angles, until she eventually switched gears, meeting Andrea with an undeviating gaze.

“I’m not going to lie, it _did_ sting.” 

She already knew it did, Ruby explained that much the day before, but hearing it directly from Sam underscored the gravity of Andrea’s actions. 

“But I get it,” Sam continued, not giving Andrea a chance to interject. “You weren’t the only one who thought a single mother wouldn’t make it in the business world.”

Again. Sam was giving her an out, _again_. She had always been too nice, too forgiving, letting people walk all over her at any chance they got. It wasn’t fair to her, and Andrea hated to see it happen, even if she was one of those very people who took advantage of Sam’s kindness. 

Andrea knew what she did was wrong, she realized her mistake, and she wouldn’t let Sam patch it up like it wasn’t an issue. “I didn’t need to say it. It wasn’t my place. I was just being an asshole.” 

Sam let out a snort. “Yeah, you were. But like I said, it was all true. And honestly? I actually appreciate that you did tell me.” 

“I don’t understand?” 

“It’s like— I knew how difficult it was going to be. I knew the odds were stacked against me. But you were the only one who had the guts to tell me. It was refreshing. Everyone else gave me fake encouragement before whispering to somebody else like I was too stupid to understand what they were giggling about. _That_ was so much worse.” 

She recalled the memory like it was yesterday, etched in her mind, perfectly drawn to scale, easy to reference. Even Andrea remembered all of the stuck-up, arrogant classmates making fun of Sam any chance they could. But back then, Andrea didn’t defend her. She honestly believed they were right, and ultimately she was too consumed with herself to even consider what that would’ve been like for Sam to see day-in and day-out. 

That needed to change. 

“I still hurt you,” Andrea said.

“Well, yeah. It was still a lot to hear that night. But afterwards, I thought about it some more, and it just… didn’t bother me anymore.”

“But Ruby said—”

“Ruby said what?” 

Andrea wondered where Ruby was at that very moment. She figured the little brat was eavesdropping on their conversation from just around the corner, but keeping hidden and absolutely quiet in the kitchen so that she wouldn’t get summoned at the mention of her name. 

It really wasn’t her place anyway. This was on Andrea to fix. 

“She said that I broke your heart,” Andrea whispered, her eyes carefully attaching themselves to Sam’s. 

The admission took Sam by surprise as her eyes widened. Whether her reaction came from Ruby announcing something so personal to Andrea, or simply because Andrea said it out loud, Andrea couldn’t tell. 

“You did, but not because of what you said. Well, not just that.” Sam’s gaze flickered away as she bit on her bottom lip, looking as if she was still deciding on finishing that thought. She kept her eyes pointedly trained to the side, actively avoiding Andrea’s gaze. “It hurt because you left. And what was that thing that you said? You were halfway out the door, I said I couldn’t lose you, and you said—” 

“I said you never had me to begin with,” Andrea finished, the words coming back clear as day.

They were cold, ruthless, and unnecessarily cruel, but it was the easiest way Andrea knew how to get out of that situation where she felt corned, trapped and terrified. A clean cut, that’s how she saw it.

But what was a clean, neat snip on her end turned out to be a jagged, broken tear on Sam’s. Andrea had avoided her at every turn until graduation rolled around and then after that, they never had to cross paths again. 

Until the conference.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Andrea said, more words on the tip of her tongue, but saying anything else about it now felt cheap, as if she were trying to justify her past choices. “I just— I’m here now.” 

Sam raised just an eyebrow, as if she were asking _for how long?_

Until Friday at least, Andrea thought. But if she actually made the effort, if she didn’t try to run away yet again, Andrea could see herself trying to make _whatever this was_ work. Somehow, some way, whatever it even meant for something to _work,_ Andrea would do it.

But before she could answer the unspoken question, Sam sighed and held up her hands placatingly. “Look, I’m not going to fish anything out of you. I just thought you should know how I felt.”

“I get it. I do,” Andrea whispered. She knew she couldn’t just cut and run like she usually did. Sam wanted her to prove she could stay, and Andrea would figure out how to do just that. 

”How about we just get started on the decorations for now, and see where the day takes us?” Sam said with a sympathetic smile, as if taking pity on Andrea and her stunted attempts at emotional contributions. 

Andrea’s answer seemed like it was enough for now, but even she knew that she couldn’t keep stringing Sam along like this.

The rest of their day passed smoothly, all the honesty in their prior conversation clearing the path for any future discussions, pushing all semblances of hesitation to the side.

Andrea tested the waters first when they were baking sugar cookies and she tossed a cup of flour into Sam’s face, landing a cloudy burst right on her mouth as if she had recently powdered her skin. The appalled look on Sam’s face was priceless, and it made the whole ambush worthwhile, but the real treat was actually pulling a giggle from Ruby, who was apparently thrilled at having a new teammate to go against her mother. The alliance was unfortunately short-lived as Andrea crossed Ruby at the first chance she got, stealing some gummies from the teenager’s gingerbread house because _“the red ones are my favourite and candy is bad for you anyway_.” Sam found herself agreeing with the latter half of her statement, making the allegiances even more complicated. So when the activities moved outside and Ruby pitched a snowball at Sam after they put up decorations, Andrea was quick to return Sam’s aid, running to her defence and shielding her from the onslaught of ice-cold snow.

The entire day was surprisingly enjoyable. It felt like those stupid Christmas movies that Andrea hated. The unrealistic ones where everything seemed to fall into place and the protagonist started understanding the true meaning of Christmas only when they found their one true love. 

But truth be told, none of those movies ever reflected real world problems. They couldn’t grasp a complicated history where two people might’ve had feelings for each other but it was too hard for one of them to admit, nor did it have the problems of both people living successful lives in locations that were miles apart, and lastly and most importantly, those films couldn’t possibly understand the somersaults Andrea’s heart would go through every time she so much as looked at Sam. 

If felt like those stupid Christmas movies, but it _wasn’t_.

Because if things were actually falling into place, then Andrea wouldn’t have to leave. 

More than that, if everything was as perfect as those Christmas movies, then Andrea wouldn’t have spilled hot chocolate on her last clean white shirt. It felt like she couldn’t go one damn day without staining an article of her clothing and it was starting to get on her last nerve. The Arias women seemed to find the whole ordeal hilarious, though Sam was still a sweetheart, passing Andrea a top to borrow for the rest of the day. 

Still, aside from those glaring hiccups that ensured this wasn’t the happy ending of a movie, the end of their day certainly felt like one. 

“I really enjoyed today,” Andrea admitted as she approached the front door, slipping her coat over her arms.

“Oh yeah?” Sam said, lifting an eyebrow, but dropping the challenge a moment later, taking a sweeter route. “I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, it was against my better judgment, but yeah.” 

Sam scoffed loudly, hardly surprised with Andrea’s teasing tone.

Her reaction elicited a small chuckle from Andrea in return. The whole moment made her feel so much lighter than ever before, and Andrea found herself reluctant to leave.

“What about you?” Andrea asked, biting her lip. “Was I a _pleasant_ guest?” 

“Eh, I’ve had better,” Sam said, but the grin on her face betrayed her words. 

“Wow, so it’s gonna be like that, is it?” 

“It is.” 

“I’m hurt,” Andrea said, feigning an ache, placing her hand on top of her chest, just near her heart as if it was physically paining her.

Sam rolled her eyes at the dramatics. “Oh, so you could tease me, but I can’t tease you?” 

That was the comment that did Andrea in, making her eyes drop to Sam’s soft, pouty lips. It had been three agonizing days since the night they spent together, and that thought alone had been nagging Andrea for the last few hours. It was almost criminal to not capture the lips of someone who sparked every blissful feeling in the world.

“Is it weird if I kiss you?” Andrea whispered.

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.” 

It wasn’t the same as that first night. It didn’t knock the floor out from underneath her, didn’t steal the breath from her chest. Andrea just leaned forward, so slight as if guided only by a breeze, and pressing her mouth to Sam’s was as simple as every ornament and glittering light hung up around them. When Sam met her halfway, one hand gentle along Andrea’s jawline, it was just a kiss.

And for lack of a better word, it was magic.

Andrea was still half-asleep when her phone rang.

It was a rare morning whenever she slept past nine, but it was already eleven as she fumbled over the lush hotel sheets for her cell on the nightstand. She pressed it to her ear blearily, not checking the caller ID, falling back onto the pillows as she answered, “Andrea Rojas.”

_“Miss Rojas, good morning. This is Brett calling from Aerolinas Argentinas. I’m pleased to inform you that a guest recently cancelled their trip, and a seat has just opened up on a flight out tonight.”_

This woke her up far better than any espresso ever could. Andrea lurched to a sitting position, and before she could even consider the alternatives, before she could remember the warnings of a past heartbreak or the single hopeful smile that still greeted her, before she could stop and wonder if this was really what she wanted, the words were already falling breathlessly from her mouth.

“Yes, yes absolutely yes, I’ll take it.”

It took far longer than it should have, after she hung up, for Andrea to realize the glaring dilemma. She was already halfway through packing all of her things, stuffing all the strewn clothing and shoes haphazardly into the suitcase, before it set in.

She stopped, hands frozen over her bags. Because— Shit. 

Sam. 

Part of her was tempted to flee without a word. Maybe shoot a text before switching her phone to airplane mode upon boarding, leave it at just a brisk and professional goodbye. That was what Andrea would normally have done.

Because this was always only going to end a certain way, because Andrea was always going to leave, because they had to be realistic about this, because if Andrea learned _anything_ about how they left things four years ago it was that Andrea was lousy with words and even worse at goodbyes. Maybe Sam deserved better than whatever cheap farewell Andrea could scrap together, maybe they both deserved to remember this trip on the note of last night than whatever forced, awkward goodbye they could do now.

Even as she rattled off all the reasons, one after another in her head, Andrea still found herself outside Sam’s door, standing in the bitter cold, knowing she had to at least say something in person. They’d been so honest with each other in the last few days that it would be cruel if Andrea didn’t.

The door swung open after Andrea knocked, and Sam was grinning from ear to ear upon seeing her, delight vibrant in her eyes like how the sun glinted off white, crystal snow. It made Andrea’s stomach churn.

“Hey! I was literally just about to call you.” Sam tugged Andrea into the house, rambling away and stopping any chance of Andrea getting a single word in. “Ruby decided to have lunch with a friend and their family. Something about how _apparently_ my mashed potatoes are pathetically inferior or something, but she’ll be back in a couple hours. _So—_ ”

“Sam,” Andrea said, but the girl wasn’t listening. Her hands had trailed up from Andrea’s wrists, scaling up her arms until they skirted over the sides of Andrea’s neck, her fingers delicate and warm against Andrea’s sensitive skin.

“We can discuss plans for tomorrow later.” Sam was pressing closer, the shape of her body fitting so perfectly against Andrea’s hips, and Andrea could already taste the coffee on her breath. “Right now – I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

Sam’s hands pressed under the collar of Andrea’s blouse, and she nearly closed her eyes at the pleasure of such a simple touch, of the warm press of her mouth barely a razor’s width away.

But she couldn’t.

“Sam,” Andrea repeated, gently grabbing the other girl’s wrists and stopping her movements. “I’m leaving.”

In the two hours since Andrea booked her flight to go back home, this was apparently her final grand, brilliant idea at carefully breaking the news.

It was always just a moment. The crestfallen confusion, the faltering smile. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, practically a whisper with how closely they stood together.

“The airline called. A seat opened up.”

“For when?”

“Tonight.”

Sam fell a step back out of Andrea’s embrace, taking that warmth with her. It left such an empty space — Andrea almost wished she hadn’t said anything at all. 

“And you’re taking it?”

Andrea swallowed, unable to look away. “I— I told you. I had plans with my father.”

“And then you made plans with—” Sam cut herself off, and Andrea didn’t understand why the other girl was holding back. Sam’s surprise set into a stiff line of something more grim. Not quite sour, or bitter, but something else.

“What?”

“No, I’m not going to let you make me sound like some clingy cliché,” Sam said, startling Andrea with her sharp tone. “You don’t get to paint me like that. Not anymore.”

Andrea’s shoulders fell, her resolve softening. “Sam…”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Sam pushed even further from her. She wasn’t— she wasn’t _angry_ , she still had that same even tone and coolly collected eyes, but there was a power thrumming beneath her skin, and Sam just looked so alive. 

Andrea had no idea what she herself looked like, but her throat was thick and her mouth dry. “Like what?”

“Like I should’ve seen this coming. Like I’m pathetic for thinking you had changed and for giving you the benefit of the doubt.” Sam’s words dripped with sarcasm like poison, soaked with bitterness that ran far deeper than just now. “I’m sorry I thought things finally felt right and that we might’ve been moving in the right direction. But no, I should’ve known you’d just take off without a second thought again.”

“It’s not like that,” Andrea tried. 

“Guess I was just kidding myself.” Sam’s jaw set firmly, and despite the hurt in her words, the look in her eyes were as impassive and detached as ever. “Because I thought this actually meant something to you this time.”

“I— I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“You still don’t get it.” Sam shook her head. “I never expected you to stay, not then and not now. You broke my heart because you were too much of a goddamn coward to admit I meant even half as much to you as you meant to me. It was never about me and my career, it was always about you and your impossible pride.” 

“Of course you meant something to me, but—” Andrea didn’t understand when this went from her early absence to some long-standing resentment over an old crush. What could Sam have possibly been looking for when the outcome was all the same? Andrea was leaving either way. There was nothing left to fight for because it was already over. “I’m sorry.” 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The apology hung in the air uselessly, serving no purpose for either of them.

Sam turned to face her again, running a hand through her hair. Now she just looked tired, defeated. “What am I supposed to tell Ruby?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know she acts like a careless teenager, but she was really excited. She really likes you. You told her you’d be there.”

“I know.”

“You know I don’t just let anyone hang around her. I’m not introducing every person I’ve ever slept with to my kid. The day at the rink, and yesterday too— I let you come back because I thought you actually grew up. I thought that after all this time, this wasn't still just a game to you. I just thought you were different. But my mistake for assuming, right?”

Better than anyone, Andrea understood being protective and guarded with her family. For years it had just been her and her father, just the two of them against the world. That was the whole point, he was all she _had_ , and she thought Sam understood that. He was the only one she couldn’t push away, the one person she had left to lose.

Or so she thought, because this moment felt a fair bit like that sharp precipice before loss.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Andrea said. She didn’t know what else to say, because arguing with Sam would just make them both feel worse. “But I’m not— I’m not running because I’m _scared_. I don’t know how else to get that through to you. I’m just going home.”

All that was left in the silence that followed was just their shared, weighted stare.

Yeah. The words sounded like bullshit even to herself.

Sam was never one to hide her emotions, never bothered with lying about how she felt, but it was like she always knew how to redirect that energy to something worthier of spending it on, and Andrea watched as Sam came to a decision about how much effort this moment was now worth.

“Okay,” Sam said at last, her expression smooth once again. “If you want to go, then go. But this was the last time, Andrea. Once I close this door, you don’t get to come back.”

For just a moment, Andrea wondered. Not a fantasy, just an idea. She could almost hear the words in Sam’s voice, a quiet _please don’t go._ Andrea couldn’t discern whether this feeling in her chest was simply longing to hear Sam ask or just fear that she might. Would she stay if she did?

It didn’t matter, because Sam turned away, and Andrea saw herself out.

It was for the best. 

She made the right choice, obviously. They weren’t even that close anymore — it’d only been six days since reconnecting after years of silence — and the invite to spend Christmas together came more out of pity for Andrea’s loneliness than anything else. Besides, spending the holiday with Sam and her daughter would just be invasive. They were a tight-knit pair, and like Sam said, she didn’t let others in loosely. Andrea couldn’t insert herself in on something like that, and Sam was just still upset over their unresolved past turmoils. There was clearly too much history to patch up, and Andrea could see how forcing something broken together was just hurting her more than staying would. It would only be delaying the inevitable, anyway. 

It was best to say goodbye like this, before they got any closer.

Andrea checked in her luggage, drifted through security, and made it all the way to her gate before she realized it was all bullshit.

She sat on the cool, plastic leather chair with her face tiredly in her hands, elbows on her knees, because _what the fuck was she doing_.

Hands shaking, Andrea selected a number in her contacts and called it before she even knew what she was going to say.

_“¿Aló?”_

“Papá, hi,” Andrea answered quietly in Spanish. “It’s Andrea.”

“ _I know it’s you. How are you? Are you boarding now?_ ”

The intercom overhead had already announced her boarding class, but there would be at least four more before the final boarding call.

“I’m about to.”

“ _Is everything okay?_ ”

“Yes… No. I don’t know.”

“ _Ah yes, I understand perfectly._ ”

“You do?”

“ _No. I might need a little more detail._ ”

Once again, Andrea found herself at a loss for words. How was she to explain the crumpled look on Sam’s face four years ago, and how was she to compare it to the distant disappointment she was met with today? Where was she supposed to start when it was a story that was only ever meant to end one way? What was she trying to say and what was the answer she wanted to hear?

“There’s a girl,” she told him finally, her mouth dry. “We knew each other in college. She…”

When she trailed off, he prompted her with a gentle, _“Yes?”_

“You always said I would know. If I met someone worth even half my time, you said I would know because they would challenge me at every turn and make me want to be a better version of myself.”

“ _Does she?_ ”

There was no hesitation. “Yes. Always.”

“ _Do you love her?_ ”

Andrea let out a shaky laugh, rubbing her forehead. “I just reconnected with her, papá. I don’t think I could possibly—”

“ _Mija. Do you love her?_ ”

Would it break her heart to admit it, or was this just what it took to make it whole? 

“Yes,” she breathed, mouth twisting. “Yes, I do.”

“ _Then what is the problem?_ ” He laughed like she was still just a child and he was encouraging her to play outside. _“Go to her.”_

“No. I nearly killed the airline manager to get a seat on this flight. I promised you we would spend Christmas together. Who knows when we’ll have the chance to do this again?”

“ _And when will you have the chance to spend it with her again?”_

Andrea rubbed her damp eyes, biting on her tongue to keep the choke of sorrow from slipping out. 

“ _Spend it with her,_ ” he emphasized. “ _We can always try again next year. And who knows? Maybe you will want to bring her here._ ”

The idea tore another wet laugh from her. “I’ve hurt her. A lot.”

“ _Please, you hurt me every day. You have a sharp tongue Andrea, but your heart is gentle. You don’t need me to tell you what to do._ ”

He must still have sensed her hesitation, because as she stared longingly towards the exit,still unmoving, he said, “ _If you love her, then you have to try. I won’t take no for an answer._ ”

Maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe she would show up at Sam’s door only to be met with it shut in her face. Maybe Sam and Ruby were both better off never seeing her face again, and maybe Andrea would be doing them both a favor to leave now.

But every fiber in her body was urging her in the opposite direction she was headed, and Andrea was so tired of fighting it.

“Okay,” she said, quick to her feet and clearing her throat. “Okay. I— I have to go.”

He laughed again, and the warm sound was nearly all the encouragement she needed. “ _Yes, please, go already. I’m a very busy man, you know._ ”

There was a new purpose in Andrea’s step as her heels clicked down the airport’s linoleum floors, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her. She smiled, and for the first time, she felt more certain about this than she had about anything in years.

“I know you are,” she said, her heart lightening with each step. “Thank you.”

“ _Don’t thank me. Just bring me home some of those Altoids things, won’t you?_ ”

“Yes, of course. I love you.”

“ _I love you more._ ”

It took every ounce of self-control to not tell the cab driver to take her straight to Sam’s house, because Andrea knew she couldn’t just show up and hope for the best. This wasn’t like every other time, and Andrea needed to prove that. For starters, she couldn’t show up empty-handed. 

But even after she had that taken care of, Andrea knew she still couldn’t go today. Sam made it perfectly clear where she stood, and Andrea knew it would be best if she gave her at least the day to settle and relax. And — partly — Andrea secretly hoped that if Sam had the chance to sleep on it, she could be in a better mood by morning.

So for the last time, after god-only-knows how many cancelled flights and calls to re-book her room, Andrea spent one last night in the hotel. 

And patiently, she waited.

“This is it,” the cab driver said once he pulled over to the curb, just in front of an overly decorated house. 

Sam’s overly decorated house.

The drive to her neighbourhood was shorter than Andrea remembered. She had taken the same exact route last time with Sam and Ruby, but this time she was left alone with only her thoughts to torment her. For the entire ride over she had been reciting the perfectly crafted apology she was set on giving Sam. Those words had been stuck in her head all day, perhaps even for the last four years, and in just a few short minutes, Andrea would finally get them off her chest. 

“Thanks,” Andrea mumbled, placing a hundred dollar bill in her driver’s hand. She knew the meter on her drive only said $40 but Andrea didn’t have anything short of a hundred dollar bill with her. “Keep the change.” 

She opened the door a moment later, stepping out of the mustard yellow vehicle and touching base with the slippery sidewalk. From there, she looked out towards the house, observing the two figures that were frolicking around the kitchen, barely visible through the windows.

It almost looked like they were dancing and as Andrea watched, she couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across her face. Even from afar, their high-spirits felt contagious, pushing Andrea’s trepidation to the side whilst encouraging her to put one foot in front of the other as she approached the front door. Andrea thought walking up to the front would be difficult enough, but standing still at the door, urging herself to knock, turned out to be even more trying.

Sam and Ruby looked happy without her, and yet here she was, selfishly wanting to insert herself in the picture that she willingly left. Her intentions clouded her mind once more, leading her to that familiar place of doubt, the one that told her this was a huge mistake. 

She turned around in a rush, moving too quick for her surroundings as her purse picked up speed and swung against the railing, knocking over one of Sam’s decorations with a loud crash. 

“Fuck,” Andrea whispered. She looked left and right, trying to find someone where to hide, if only because it was the last time she could.

But Andrea knew it was too late. She saw the kitchen window open. She knew they heard the crash. And she also knew that it was time to have the conversation she had been dreading. 

She took in one last deep breath before turning to face the front door. A light flickered on just behind her, revealing Andrea’s identity to the homeowner who was still hiding behind the porch door, only leaving her dark shadowy figure visible from the outside. 

“Andrea?” Sam said, pushing the porch door open. 

“Hi.”

Sam’s bright, airy nature filled the air, making its way into Andrea’s lungs, eliciting hope and the feeling that maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as it had to be. In that moment, she could almost say that Sam looked happy to see her. 

“What are you—”

But reality sunk in a second later and Sam’s emotions shifted, her face falling into a cold flat line as realization set in. 

“Your flight got cancelled again, didn’t it?” She let out an uncharacteristic scoff. “God, I can’t believe you. I thought I told you last time that—”

“This is different.” Andrea held her hand out, trying to stop Sam from jumping to conclusions.

“No,” Sam said, jerking back to avoid Andrea’s touch. “No. I said what I had to say yesterday. I’m not doing this again.”

“If you would just _listen_ to me, then—”

“No, I gave you your chance. I can’t believe I opened the door at all.”

“Just let me explain.”

“Honestly, Andrea, did you really think I was going to react to you showing up here any other way?”

“It didn’t get cancelled. I just didn’t board the flight,” Andrea blurted out in a hurried mess, her voice cracking an octave higher. 

It wasn’t quite the love declaration the movies usually went with, but for Andrea it might as well have been. A crinkle formed around the corners of Sam’s eyes, effectively taking away most of the fear in Andrea’s chest. It was a look that Andrea could live with, but it didn’t last as Sam finished it off with a deep-set frown, one that chilled Andrea far more than the snow outside ever could.

“No, you don’t get to do this to me,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Especially not today.”

“I know,” Andrea sighed, the words heavy. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

Andrea was well versed in dealing with indignation and resentment. Over the years, she had been both a recipient and a contributor to those emotions. But the hurt washing over Sam’s face was something else entirely. 

The way that Sam looked at her right now was the same shriveled up look she gave Andrea four years ago — the one that Andrea didn’t turn back to watch evolve into prolonged suffering. She never dwelled on that moment, never got to see the way that her abandon fractured Sam’s life. Seeing it now only made her want to comfort Sam and protect her from anything that caused her harm.

“I— I brought you back your shirt,” Andrea said, pulling the white blouse out of her purse.

Sam glanced between Andrea and the blouse, looking as if both were foreign and out of season. 

Andrea shifted uneasily on her feat. “Also….” she started, momentarily breaking eye contact from Sam to lift up the gold-wrapped box in her hand. “I got this for Ruby.”

This gesture caught more of Sam’s attention as she raised her eyebrow. 

“It’s a LEGO set,” Andrea explained feebly, knowing that Sam would think it was some extravagant overpriced attempt at winning them back. 

“LEGO?” Sam repeated. She either let out a hushed laugh afterwards or she was simply clearing her throat. Either way, it signaled that she had more to say and it eased some of the despair in Andrea’s compressed chest. “You really are terrible at gifts. Do you know my daughter at all?”

She didn’t say it with animosity, but more with a cautious urge to hear what Andrea had to say. 

“I caught Ruby looking at engineering programs one day on her phone. I know it’s silly, but it’s still building something, and I thought it might inspire that creativity a bit.”

“She was looking at programs?” 

“Guess she’s like you. Hard-working to the bone. Thinking about her career before she even has to,” Andrea said before her tone dropped to something softer. “You raised her well.” 

“That’s… very sweet of you to say.” Sam touched delicately at the edge of the box, looking like she might actually take it. “You didn’t have to.”

Andrea couldn’t tell which she was referring to, or whether that even made a difference. “I wanted to.”

Sam smiled, half-hearted, but something genuine still lingered. She reeled the box in. “Thank you.” 

Andrea nodded. There was so much she wanted to say to try and fix everything that turned sour between them, but as polite as Sam was being, it only made Andrea feel even more detached. At this point, she wasn’t sure if admitting her feelings would change a thing or just make it all worse.

An alarm started in the distance, punctuating the end of everything still unspoken between them.

“I…” Sam waved over her shoulder. “I left some food in the oven.” 

“Right. Of course.”

“Thank you again,” Sam said with a flat smile, lifting the box higher. “Happy holidays, Andrea.” 

She looked like she was going to add more, but then her shoulders dipped, and she turned away. When Sam hurriedly shut the door, leaving Andrea alone and cold on the doorstep, Andrea didn’t move. 

Their conversation didn’t go the way that Andrea planned, but at least Sam didn’t seem to resent her. She took the gift, and even if she didn’t take her own shirt back, it was better than nothing. Andrea could live with this outcome. She tried, and that was what mattered. 

So she turned away and started walking back towards the street, but she only managed to work in two steps before she came to a harsh stop, suddenly remembering the words Sam snapped at her yesterday. 

Reassurance. That’s what Sam needed that Andrea never gave her. That’s what stopped them from realizing something more. Sam was always honest with her feelings, but Andrea never dared reciprocating them in turn. She denied them at any chance she got, chalked up their college years to being on the receiving end of unrequited love, and even today she _still_ never managed to reassure Sam that every unwavering breath and stutter of her heart had always been in Sam’s hands. 

Sam was right. Andrea never pushed her pride completely to the side. She let it blot out her life for so long like a stained, slick spill of ink on a page, so tainted that she couldn’t read the words underneath anymore. 

But that ended now. 

Turning on her heels, Andrea rushed up to the door and pressed repeatedly on the doorbell. 

It wasn’t long before Sam’s figure reappeared in the frame of the door. Oddly enough, she didn’t hesitate this time and she swung the door open with an exhausted look on her face.

“Andrea look—”

“I’m an asshole.” Andrea cut off, getting to the point right away because Sam looked like she couldn’t bear a second more of Andrea’s bullshit. “I was an asshole in college and I was an asshole everytime I pushed you away this last week. I’ve just been so—” She swallowed away the panic that came from being so closely scrutinized and laying herself bare. “...Scared. I’ve been scared of admitting everything to myself and… even more scared of admitting these feelings to you.” 

With Sam’s doe-like eyes staring back at her, speechless, Andrea still felt that bottomless terror. But she knew she had to keep going. She knew she had to fight for Sam like Sam had fought for her so many times before. 

“Being around you always felt right. But I told myself it was wrong because I didn’t think it was going to work. And it was so much easier to cut and run than to stay and fight.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not running anymore. I’ve wanted to be here for a while. I’m _choosing_ to be here now.” 

A single tear finally broke from the corner of Sam’s eye, streaming across her cheek. It tugged at Andrea’s heart, making her wish that she could wipe it away and console every doubt she instilled in Sam. 

Andrea was ready to prove herself. She just didn’t know if Sam was willing to give her that chance.

“You said you were here last time too. And then you bolted right when things got complicated,” Sam said, wiping her eyes before letting out a breath that she clearly had been holding for too long. “I’m understanding, Andrea. I know you love your father and you wanted to spend Christmas with him. I wasn’t asking you to choose us, but I started wondering if I’d ever be an option.”

She didn’t say _for once_ but Andrea swore she heard it.

“These last six days have been some of the best I’ve had in the last four years,” Andrea whispered. “And it’s because they were with you.”

Sam considered Andrea’s words like they were a display meant for someone else, like she was cautious to take them for her own.

“I want to be here,” Andrea emphasized, willing the genuine gravity of her words to sink in. “You make me happy, and I want to spend this day with you. Both of you. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize.”

“And your father?”

Andrea laughed. “He practically yelled at me to stop being an idiot.”

Something about that admission resonated with Sam more than the rest of their conversation. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Andrea spoke about Sam with her father, or maybe it was the fact that Andrea was finally accepting she’d been acting like an absolute idiot that shifted Sam’s mood. Either way, a cheeky smile now replaced the solemn look on Sam’s face. 

“Will you really stop being an idiot though?” Sam asked. 

“No promises there.”

Sam let out a light laugh and it immediately filled Andrea’s body with that warmth she had been missing since this blizzard started. Finally, she was close to filling that empty space which had been vacant for far too long. 

“I just…” Sam started, letting out another heavy sigh. Andrea could tell that hefty resolve was starting to lose some of its weight. “It was never about asking you to stay, Andrea. I just wanted you to stop running.” 

“I know… I finally understand that.”

It was the last thing that Sam needed to hear to silence all the anxieties in her chest. She nodded, a small, final gesture to this five-year-long game they’d been playing, before opening the door and welcoming Andrea to the Arias Christmas Eve dinner.

“Rubes, can you come here for a minute?” Sam shouted once Andrea removed her coat. 

“What is it?” Ruby called back, the whine in her voice audible even through the walls.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Can you come, please?”

The sound of dragging feet and hefty sighs echoed through the house, and the sheer dramatic teenage angst of it nearly made Andrea burst out in laughter.

When the girl finally arrived, she barely reacted to Andrea’s presence. 

“So she’s back,” Ruby said, giving her mother a bored look. Her eyes flickered over to Andrea a moment later, briefly.

Sam stifled a laugh at the lackluster reaction, but Andrea found it mortifying. It was one thing to have to apologize to Sam, but her daughter’s unimpressed disinterest was somehow even worse. 

“I am,” Andrea said. After a brief pause, she leaned towards Ruby, bending down slightly as she tried to whisper the rest of her sentence so Sam wouldn’t be able to hear it. “I’ve come to realize there’s more that matters than just caring.”

The answer, which echoed their conversation days ago at the ice rink, seemed sufficient for Ruby, because she was already moving onto her next thought. She pointed to the golden-wrapped present leaning against the side of the doorway, left there after Sam first took it from Andrea. “Is that for me?” 

“Well, it’s not the heels you wanted, but—”

“Can I open it?” 

Andrea shrugged. “If it’s okay with your mom.”

“ _Mom,_ please.” 

“Ruby, it’s not even midnight.”

Her daughter groaned loudly. “C’mon. Just this one! I promise I won’t ask to open any others tonight.” 

“Okay. Just this one and then no more complaints, alright?”

“Deal.” 

Ruby barely finished speaking before speeding past Sam and Andrea, picking up the gift and running out of the room to unwrap it. 

“You agreed to that pretty quickly,” Andrea said, chuckling. 

“I just saved us both a massive headache.”

“That bad?”

“She nags me every year to open them before midnight.” She scrunched up her nose, her mouth drawn into an adorable pout. “She wins everytime, too.”

“Of course she does.” Andrea shook her head. She was about to tease her some more, but when she saw Sam looking at her expectantly, Andrea hesitated. “What?”

“Well, I don’t want to be presumptuous, but you bought Ruby a gift so… where’s mine?” 

“Oh. I didn’t get you one.” 

Of course she got Sam a gift, but it was so much more fun watching Sam scramble for a polite way of asking such a silly question. Or at least, Andrea thought she’d take a polite route.

Sam's eyes narrowed in. “I don’t believe you.”

“When have I ever lied to you?” But at the lack of change in Sam’s frown, and the way she shook her head, Andrea asked, “Too soon? Okay fine.” She reached into her purse once more, pulling a small round carton out of it. “Here.”

“Are these—?” 

“Auntie Anne’s pretzels? Yeah.”

Andrea barely finished speaking before Sam’s fingers latched onto the lid, opening it up and intoxicating the air with that sweet aroma of baked, salty bread and over processed sugar.

“They’re cold,” Sam said, frowning a bit as she lifted up the salted pretzel. 

“Well, if you hadn’t left me outside for so long.”

Sam rolled her eyes and gave Andrea a light push on her shoulder. “You’re something else.” 

Sam let her fingers linger on Andrea’s shoulder for a moment too long and that alone would have been catastrophic for Andrea’s heart, but when that action was paired with those provoking words, Andrea knew she was as good as a goner. She couldn’t stop the stupid radiant grin that threatened to plaster her face, making her look like every other useless hearthtrob that let their emotions dictate their life.

Andrea never anticipated spending Christmas Eve with Sam and Ruby. But now that she was here, in the glow of Sam’s poorly-lit living room, she couldn’t even fathom the fact that she had tried to run from it. 

“I gotta show you something.” Andrea held out her hand. 

Sam looked at it for a moment like she couldn’t believe this was happening. Andrea could hardly believe it either. Never had she initiated non-essential contact herself, not when they weren’t in a bedroom or drunk at a frat party. But the moment felt right, and Andrea wanted to seize it in the only way she knew how. 

“Show me what?” 

“Something in the other room.”

“You have to show me something in my own house?” 

Andrea waved her hand impatiently “Just trust me.”

Sam still looked wary, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Andrea and her hand. Ultimately, Sam conceded, letting her hesitation dissipate as she gently laced her fingers with Andrea’s.

Andrea couldn’t remember the last time her nerves spiked with something as simple as holding onto someone’s hand. It was hardly intimate, but for two people who never let their touches linger for more than a brisk second, it was tantalizing.

“Come on. This way,” she said, immediately pulling Sam with her into the room over until they were standing right in front of Sam’s storage closet. 

Sam levelled Andrea with a quizzical look. “You do know I’m already out of the closet, right?”

Andrea shook her head and pointed a finger up, gesturing towards the small mistletoe she attached on the top of the door just two days prior. 

“What is— I’m sorry, is that _mistletoe?_ How did that get there?” 

Andrea grinned and leaned closer, trying to capture Sam’s lips with her own. She made it halfway before she felt a finger lightly pushing back. 

“Seriously.” Sam held her at bay. “Where the hell did that come from? Because I didn’t buy any mistletoe.” 

“Can you just let me do my thing?” 

“Why would you even put it on top of a closet I don’t use? We never would have come this way naturally.” 

“Oh god, you’re ruining the moment,” Andrea groaned. “Look, it was attached to one of the wreaths you bought, so I just ripped it out and put it somewhere you wouldn’t see.” 

“You _ripped_ my wreath?” 

Andrea ignored the disbelief in her voice. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Sam’s smile was like honey on her mouth when Andrea finally kissed her, a delicacy on her lips. But of course Sam would ruin it.

“You’re buying me a new wreath,” Sam mumbled into her mouth. “And you’re also replacing whatever you broke on my porch.”

“I’ll buy you the entire holiday department at Home Depot if you just shut up and kiss me properly.” 

It still caught her by surprise when Sam did just that — she tugged her close, hands twining around Andrea’s neck, and kissed her with all of the pent-up longing and desire they had both kept suppressed for far too long. 

When Andrea finally pulled away to get a breather, she was met with the sweetest and the most inviting smile she had ever laid eyes on.

“I’m happy you came back,” Sam whispered. 

“I never should have left.”

**Author's Note:**

> hit us up on twitter, @luthorsrojas and @harrowanthe 🤍


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